THE MISTAKEN CORRUPTOR
He swallowed the agony of hell
And after being through the depth of it’s hallow halls
The old rusty thorn squeezed
Itself around the heart of him that forsake good,
The black blood of his wickedness pouring
Out from his crack soul,
Leaking the rotten stench of harmful deeds,
Anticipating such sinister approach,
The reflection of him who hurt was so bitter,
I turn away my eyes and twist the mirrors around,
Privately impersonated, I tried to erased the errors
That sealed upon his revenge,
Plucking them out from his conscience, the messy residual,
So his innocence could emerge with colorful reflection