The sky is still blue

I am no longer pure.

Even though the sky is still blue,

Yet I am no longer pure.

The fish swim in clear waters,

But I am no longer pure.

Dew clings to the petals, only to slip away unnoticed,

And I am no longer pure.

Raindrops trace their inevitable descent, unyielding to their fate,

But I no longer care for anything.

I am no longer pure.

Pleasure and despair,

Courage and fear,

Continuously fill me, one after another,

With a suffering that knows neither end nor respite.

It’s a feeling that makes me utter a prayer,

One that I wish to whisper softly:

The one standing beneath this vast sky, who has never forgiven himself even for a moment,

Hopes that God too will never, even for a moment, forgive him.

This escaping self,

Fleeing from anything that could remind me of how I lived,

Finally, a part of me,

No longer cared what would happen to him.

Finally, it no longer mattered

Where his emotions resided,

Which path they took,

Or where they were drawn.

He existed in a world

Where his heart had long ceased to feel.

The flickering light in the air, which made him wait and hope for a dream to bear the weight of the greatest impossible chance of his life—

Had lost its meaning.

That light would never shine for him again.

The impossible desire that once deeply affected him

Was now a vague memory,

A memory slowly fading away,

Of someone who, from now on, could only whisper in shame:

"I am no longer pure."

Even though the sky is still blue,

Yet I am no longer pure.