/ G R A Y /

.

I see them walk past their tombs

guarding their lies with paper masks,

I wonder

If they feel sins surfacing up to their soles

Into their blood and through their bones

Turning all of it to black.

.

If humanity is a religion, sinning must be too.

And I must be an omnist;

For I’ve walked over hearts and stones

and my feet have felt the same.

I soak my soul with gray,

Winter is what I choose to be.

– Shreya