In brief a weakened moment in desperate hours long he kneels beside the shadow of a man that once went wrong and wonders where it happened, how long ago it seems one thought became an evil deed and dashed, destroyed his dreams. His eyes closed against the sorrow, the ever-aching pain, fists clenched against the memory, head bowed against the rain and in the distant thunder it echoes through his mind, follows his wandering footsteps, never far behind. It wasn’t such great a sin, simple and discreet, yet it haunts him like her epitaph, so silent, so sweet and now in final payment for this terrible sin of his, he is doomed to walk the earth alone, to remember and to live.
Reason for writing:
...I saw this man, and could feel his pain from across the street...
I don't know what his past held, what terrible crime haunts his soul,
but the torment of it was etched into every minute fiber of his
being...
Birth sign: Not entered
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