guilt,
to an impression
it's a fierce
cloudy tierce
a sound to it
pierce
but to a feeling
it's a rear
winding sear,
a songe
would
hear
a silhouette
pear.
guilt,
a wave
to it
steers
but the force
with it
nears.
you feel
mere but
empty
with tears,
an illusion
would clear
the fear is
so dear.