Your Sin

Your Sin

 

The well is dry,

the shops are closed

and you cannot buy a vowel.

The rain starts,

there’s no shelter,

 no umbrella

and someone stole your towel.

The air is cold

and the rain hurts

 the ripe skin.

You hear laughter in the background;

you figure this is hell,

but what’s your sin?

 

Reviews

[sithlordjp]

"and you cannot buy a vowel." I think this resonates for a lot of writers here... Well done!

[Inda]

Thanks, glad you liked it!