Email Poem

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Poem

When I caught a glimpse of my shadowy form in the accursed mirrors,
The silhouette of remorse that peeped back, reflected unmistakeable errors;
Seasons have swept across, now it's only shards of broken glass that remain,
Scattered over in myriad pieces,they reflect my ceaseless suffering and pain;
Each shard of glass has a story to tell,the endless tales of my unforgiveable mistakes,
Morbid tales accompanied by monotonous melancholia of repressed sorrows and prickly aches;
Each piece of glass accused me of my forbidden sins and sinister faults,
I tread upon my own sinful mistakes which feels like sprinkling ones own wound with salt;
Each tear of mine is an evidence of my misunderstood fate,my sinister offense,
Each droplet of guilt that trickles down pays the price of my penitence;
Everytime my soul suffocates and my conscience cries,
I know this is my only punishment, my silent chastise.

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