Posted in Poems


The kindled perspective through prims,
The hightened show of, ludicrous fallacy.
The silent pardons of unpardonable greif.
A mistake, a redemption and a commitment.

Tales that hide under bed sheets,
And drinks liquor from lethal edges,
The narrow hips swirling, and puffs defusing
A charismatic moment that seize,
The future tells repugnant fractures.
A regret, a moment and a time.

The bare eyes, and bare knuckles
The smeared lipstick and vanilla aroma,
Its a full circle, like the moon
where we escape there is black
And where we reach there is white.
You know now what shines?
The scintillating lusture of sins.

Serendipity of varicose people,
And misery for etched reflections,
On glasses of wounded cracks.
Sins are faces surviving,
Sins are forbidden wistfulness
Sins are virtuous swearings
A sinner of promises, a sinner of fate.

©Jumbled Letters.


From reflection to shadows, they all whisper silent tales.

5 thoughts on “Sins

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