Sin Visits me ( guardian)

Sin   Visits  me (  guardian)

I  am  neither in  the center of this  wreath,

 Nor  in the center of   abundant wealth

Yet  sin  visits  for  an observation

Could  be  the  ghost  also

Somewhere meandering  from.

For  a  change, for  an  interview perchance.

Yonder  burning  so many   bodies,

How  many  sinned  abominably,

Don’t  know  yet, for  ire of  fire

don’t  discriminate;  the  indiscriminate

defies , acting   always awry.

 I am used  to log of wood,  burning

Charcoal  and   billowing  smoke

For  sustenance, while near  kiln,

 watching  the Grimaced   humanity,

 my  joys   and   relief  only short-lived.

Couldn’t   afford  to  sin. Yet   the  ghost

From  afar  and  near  stares  at me

As   if  infusing  a    conviction

I am here and  everywhere.