Wednesday, January 16, 2013

The Sinner



Every evening
in the Church

There comes
A Sinner

He sits
on the the corner of the last bench
In silence

Neither does he pray
Nor confess

He stares at the ceiling
Fixing his gaze at the cob-web

He keeps sitting
Even after everyone else has left

When it turns dark out 
He picks his blood soaked dusty robe  
And leaves 

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