The charcoal skies grow grim,
The clouds huddle together to hide,
The sun is ashamed to hold its head high.
Despite the thunder lamenting,
And the rain falling,
Torches going out in the dark,
Our eyes soak each other in,
Desperate for each fleeting moment.
I long to lace your fingers through mine,
Even for a single second,
Yet I must stay by their side,
As you writhe on the muddy ground,
Soaked to the bone.
As the gong reverberates,
It is finally time,
I can reach you,
I can touch you,
I can kiss you,
As I plunge the sword through your heart.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of the Mind
PoesíaLocked up inside, the mind speaks to you. Sometimes, it tells you of your past wishes, sometimes it becomes the cause of your spirals, and even more times, it allows you to dream. What a wonderful place this world could be if everyone achieved their...
