Sin

By: Pigfish

playing games for centuries past

fling the tongs

grate

fast


temples flying above some trees

making flimsy music

tempting

pleas


dark tunnels going downward

solitary dark prisons

lonely

inward


faint rubbing of keys

marching moving shadows

walls

freeze


feather sapping up the sunshine

inkpot black

lines

moonshine


echoes flapping like leaves

unknown sirens

wail

the breeze


minds bending bleakly stung

minding the black

fallen

song


to look too late

a famished grin

singing

sin

SINPOEMS
Site Copyright © 2001-2024 Soul of a Poet, All Rights Reserved.
All works on this site are copyright their original authors.
You wasted 0.0014 seconds of the server's life.