My life was like a burning lamp,
Which tries to be untouched,
With wind and stromes,
Everyone thinks i sits on a flowered carpet,
No one knew the carpet was made of thorns,
The crown was made of needles,
Which hurts, but still can't be expressed,
I lived where friendship and loyalty, Was like a spring season,
Memories are crafted in walls here,
When i die, will this people
Remember who i was, how i was,
What would be the reminder for me,
Will i be recalled as a princess or a women who was mean?
Will they remember the struggle and pain i faced my whole life,
The way i lived was not easy,but i lived,
What we are?
An exhibition of impotents,
The one who thinks is immortal,
And live on this land facing sky,
Oneday will be underground,
With no power,
At last death came towards me,
And iam waiting for you,
Now no rain of happiness,
No garden odour,
Now the doors are closed to move back to this life,
Not right, not left,
nor front, nor behind
No doors are left open for me to live this life again,
Now what all i can see is an
unknown journy,
Now iam turned blue leaving all the colours of my life behind,
no grace, no power,
is what all i faced my last hour...
YOU ARE READING
.RHYTHM OF SOUL.
PoesiaYour words always don't speak what you wanna express Your expression not always supports you Your heart not always beats for you Your desire cannot always burn as fire Your soul is not gonna always be with you Even your shadow leaves you in dark t...
