The Chosen Few, by Gabriel Villa

If I’m not one of the chosen few

I’d rather not be called

So I’ve laid in beds – gasping for air

It’s a sin, but I don’t care

The danger is not sin

But what you become after it

So why must you want me to repent

when I haven’t done anything yet?

Am I not the same person I was yesterday?

Or the day before?

Or the year before?

The called one – still unchosen

 

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