Draining the water of the fish

watching it's body be thrashed

by the meanest last struggle.

Uninvited frog hopping

underneath the cozy sofa

in the parlour had become

cold and thrown outside.

Lizards that thrived,

never had their tounges

nor the tails out of fright

and silent chirps occluded the rooms.

Holding on to these glitches,

a deep abyss spaghettized me,

The bleeding soul can't feel more numb,

failing confessions took me to the edge.

So I flew to the plight of obscurity

and stood naked before

the court of obsessions

as a pitiable victim

'cause I killed the cat that killed a chameleon

not as a prey, but as in a play.

The hammer blew my ears

I was to be hanged till death

but subjected to live as a grief stricken soul,

which has undergone a hundred executions,

and finding meaning of meaningless.

The cycle goes on as the organism

with a hairy topping goes on

with it's ruthless quest to dominate

and the blindfold of the statue

before the hammer was transparent...

Writer's note: "Dead people receive more flowers than the living ones because regret is stronger than gratitude."
~Anne Frank

Should we be guilty unless it's too late? Do you think we are guilty of everything we do?
This fact haunts me!!

This is a new experiment please let me know about this in the comments. I am eager to know your opinions.