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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1690721
what happens when your sins catch up with you at the end of the road.
The air is humid and heavy,
with the weight of thousand sins,
my knees are on the ground,
the clouds are over my head.

The light cannot reach me,
and my soul is short of breath,
the moments last an eternity,
and the flowers smell of death.

win or lose does'nt matter,
the road was long and merry,
but the past caught up fast,
by the ghosts I had buried.

I want to, but I never can,
go back and wash my sins,
the pain is a promise of remorse,
and the clouds are over my head
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