The last cry .

How I long, to wash away the blood off my hands
now that I stand at the edge of my rope
I dip them deep in the ocean of my deeds 
rubbing them well in the waters of my grief
the more I rub, the redder they get 
cold-blooded stains of my past
I don’t have a choice, to rewind my life
nor can I carry them where I go
enormously heavy they weigh me down
patches that have now stained my soul  
my time has come, but not yours yet
repent if you must and sin no more.

Repent if you must and sin no more…..

© Annadine Charles.
 

Advertisement