From the Dearest
From the dearest, abundance of prosperity
Thou lying is disastrous, mind was closed
Closed enough to mumble words of beauty
Shall fight or refuse? shall accept the dose?
But thou owning glitter soft and brown eyes
Marks of tears are visible and crumbled
Gradually, strong desires changed into lies
When?, I said when? to move and to aboard
But oneself, as a pertained and proclaimed
Wondering thy scenes, and yearning chances
Shattered, weakened, still, the light was aimed
Hoping the light not turns into ashes
Pity the world, blame it, but not thyself
There's still time, endure, redeem yourself
YOU ARE READING
Her Letter's Clandestine
PoetryPoetry collection, a compilation of ideas and concepts resting inside my head. Sounds that cannot be heard. Just the expression of my little mind.
