This isn't my brain,
But a fruit full of pulp,
Squash it,
And Juice shall flow,
Run down my brows,
And wet my face
With its venomous bliss.
Take a sip from my lips,
And should you taste hatred,
Agony; let me know,
Or let it flow,
Bitter, sweet;
Morn, eve
Flow ‘til it dries
And the tang dies.
The spring will bring
A new fruit
Full of pulp,
Mash it,
Let it flow,
Take a sip from my lips,
And should you taste love,
Wisdom; don't let me know,
Just let it flow.
Flow till it flies
And paints the skies.
YOU ARE READING
Incandescent Nightfall
PoetryThe night closes in, darkness awaits me...but there is light somewhere i believe, waiting with its radiance to make me shine forever and after...i hope, i will endure, i wish i will live.
