Meanwhile, the soul's resting under the apple tree.
Mind's began to walk into several mirrors in sky.
Mirror reflected, The Jovial I.
The hues are spreading miles of smiles to several people.
The hands which serve to be everyone's wall
The wall which stands for everything when things seemed to fall.
Deep-down, The Jovial I,
There's a black hue that lies,
The black hue of a broken I.
A broken I, which I gained,
WORST, FROM THE ONE,
Whom I loved yet,
BETRAYED MY SOUL.
I accepted what he did,
But what makes it tough, is the fact,
That I am not yet nodding for opening the doors of reconciliation.
YOU ARE READING
THE DARK kNIGHT: INTO THE NIGHT
PoetryThis is a 3rd book poem of 21st Century poems. Come on lezz read!
