Awaiting in solitary silence, I avow the sins that embody a once innocent soul. To beg, plead for forgiveness would profess disgrace, and undoubtedly prove hypercritical. Instead, I anticipate a more distinct, perceptible attempt at retribution. Today, on the 25th of the 12th month, a day I repeatedly indulge solitude and sin, a day I unjustly deserve celebration and rejoice, is the day I proclaim unrighteousness and prepare for judgment. Five chambers remain vacant as I heedlessly proceed to load the sixth. Memories emit a distressed perspective of life; little remorse leaves a contradictive sense of repugnance……I recite a childhood prayer as tension embraces the trigger. “Our father, who art in heaven….”