Sin gets the best of me. Nothing I do seems to turn out right. I begin with the best of intentions, and end with the worst of results. The tears flow, I flee to my solitude. When will it end? Will I ever be free from the chains I have forged for myself? We all have chains. Chains of hate, chains of bitterness, chains of damaged pride, chains of scorn. They stretch on for miles, piled high, marring our view of reality. But, this is reality, I thought. Are you trying to tell me that what I’ve seen since the day I was born is a myth, a figment of my imagination? Ah, I didn’t think so. No, these chains are real, cutting, painful, but they keep us from seeing our lives as they could be, our lives as they should be.