Sinful

Hiding your true self.

Sinful.

That fragile mask you wear is slipping,
your hidden demons barely clinging.
Singing the angel song so well,
keeping close how darkness fell.

How very close we are to seeing,
an inner voice desperately fleeing.
Staying calm with all your might,
lest your bad behaviour give fright.

How you long to show your soul,
empty and dark as blackened coal.
Knowing you must keep it within,
or you'll be branded with evil sin.