Melting wax falling down,
drops of holy joy on its path!
Surface warmed by the gay,
hoping drains went to faith.
Bittersweet chattery came off
as though happened to ease the worse.
Disguise and etiquette went by
all of a sudden, with no sound.
Drops of drained wax were fading down
melting its bleached matter with the ground.
Moulded in colourless alloy carved the crave
of infatuated passion by its grave.
Alas! How come I withstand
out of your presence
out of your essence
out of your hollow life?
YOU ARE READING
Flowers of Artemisa's shadows
PoetryOutwardly, an anthology of my oldest and newest poems. Inwardly, an exhausting odyssey of finding the cornerstone of my self.
