Emaciated, he looked gaunt,
His past continued to haunt,
His vile deeds of the yore,
Gnawed at his innermost core.
Decomposing his life gone by,
He awaited his verdict with a sigh,
His few remaining days on earth,
Of love, there was a dearth.
Repentance, it crossed his mind,
‘Too little, too late’, he resigned,
No one else will ever come to know,
To the grave, he will take his woes.
PROMPT COURTESY: 3WW