Errors? Poem by Dua Qadeer

How many mistakes have you truly made?
With a frail conscience so strained,
How many wrongs do you truly regret?
Since your glass tongue was chained.

How many times will you scream with despair?
With a distorted excuse of moral,
How many faults will you go on to commit?
Since all your thoughts end in quarrel.

How many ways have to tried to abstain?
With a will and an illusion of hope,
How many misconceptions did you believe?
Since your will was just a necklace of rope.

How many sins have you counted on your hands?
With a soul splattered with blood,
How many crimes were made on your behalf?
Since you never fought the flood.

How excruciating is it being violated?
With those quiet voices and records obsessed,
How much more?
Mere hours before your death.