I wrote this poem as it reminds me of what we do in our past, it will always catch up with us.

A metaphor for death.

I can’t shake this darkness.

You were the thorn in her side.

No one is perfect ,it does not also mean that it is alright to commit sin. One needs to strive for perfection. Hard but little by little with proper guidance one can.

Everybody is judged in the end.

When you are Virtue people insist you to show yourself as Vice.

Something that should be done daily for the one who died for us to save us from our sins.

The Night Life: It is much like the deep dark woods.

You were far too eager.