Mortal Sin Number Two

by

The washing sins of fruitful trust

Crashes over my eyelids

And cries me blind

My hands are in two positions

Clicking off time

Like time trial and errors of seconds

dropping cruelly on faceless brocades

And broad, proud shoulders

I cannot begin to express

The regret I have for choices I've met

And overcome with indecision and guilt

Because guilt is the mortar

With which the house of lonliness is built

And the explosive that will demolish it

Only to be rebuilt in Heaven sent, blind reknown

Bordering in pre-cognizant recognition of fate returning

To deal new cards to shakey hands

Fingers delirious and drunk with remorse

Forgetting that fingers tickle musical notes
And explore the cavernous nothing of skin and gripping flesh

Dripping fresh liquid excitement

But it's lost enticement to trembling fingers

Of wanderers and seekers

Of runners and holy thinkers

Now, I sit soothed and still

In the new mortal sin of steady fingers

Excuse my side stepping language and love of metaphor

Perhaps straight talk could perform better for

your ears, so as you need not think

Or seek, Holy Drinker

I stew in the mortal sin of trust of time

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Never did i knew..
by: Rina
from: Kuala Lumpur, Selangor, Malaysia

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