Blame

Blame, blame, blaming letters
To anonymous person from anonymous sender
Words, words, filled up with words
And still the writer is trying to use tender swords

He feels hollow or shallow, anyway pain is inside
Like a huge heart beating, less breaths, more sighs
He doesn't want to be the sin-committer in these games
That's why he goes on throwing lies and firing flames
Aching and hurting hearts with his meaningless blames

He stands in front of the mirror which breaks and cracks
Trying to tell him out loud that mercy is the thing he lacks
He shouts "Why is the blame always on me?
When will I stand for my dignity?
When will I stop being a sinner?
When will I be the angelic winner?"

Would he be forgiven after this slaughter?!
After being a blame-and-lies roarer?!
Would the anonymous person answer back,
With his own reasons, with his own facts?
Who would drift tears first?
Who would rebuild this thurst?