No Stains,No Pains

Memories of life's stains
Make a factory of pains.
They churn the mind with sense of guilt
And untold qualms and compunction.
Conscience is not always a wardrobe
That keeps pure,well woven thoughts,
Prudently knit with noble threads.
It is at times a black hole,with dirt,
Or a pawnbroker's chest,stuffed with 
Others'belongings,duly adulterated.
They are unworthy to store,like confessions 
Shared secretly with lofty, listening robes,
Timelessly tied to the atonement Wifi.
Sometimes the doctors who treat and heal,
Contract the disease that costs them their life.
So do confession cocktails corrupt the system
That listens compassionately,to sinful shares.
A warranty for universal wellness is like
A weather proof wall against mercy paralysis,
Preventing the hurling of harboured stains.
A mind with no stains neither suffers pain, 
Nor throws stains on the white walls of others.
                               P. Chandrasekaran.