Maybe I don't have a good heart, maybe I won't make it to heaven, maybe I was destined for hell so I dine with the likes of me but I have always been good to you, good to you that it frightens me, I have been good to you beyond hell's approval, it scares me. I don't think I was made for such righteousness; it's too godly to swallow.

I try to make you see in me what I can't see of myself. Maybe I try too hard and sometimes to your soul's detriment and my own destruction but I will try even harder next time, I promise, even if we mourn the loss of our souls everyday in my attempts to save our creation. One day we may reincarnate to something definitely more beautiful than the scars we wear so shyly and we will be new again.