Somewhere between sinister and saints.

In the eyes of the saints,
I am a stranger,
Yet,
All I crave is a part of their grace.

A human in flesh and blood,
A human in deeds and words,
A chaos that stirs inside,
A whip of ignorance that shuts it aside.

The oozing smell of morning breadth,
A chilly air seeping inside,
Somewhere between sinister and saints,
I became a fallen part of their grace.

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