In these ribs, i unearthed sad
poems a plenty of times. Your name
had been a constant echo–audible
enough to etched on every
tombstones in the graveyard of my
life.
In every heaps of roses slowly dying,
wilting under the torrid heat of the sun
and with every lycoris flourishing by
the pelting rain; my hands are itching
to get a hold of your cold ones.
Do you hear me? Did my ardent call
reached you as i write down these
words for yet another plea for your
love?
My darling, i've grown tired of
pretending you choosing me over her
lily-white smiles';
Now come and see
me under the remains of the dying
lights.
YOU ARE READING
Under The Late October Skies
PoetryI am looking for the kind of love that is worthy of me and my words. ☽☀☾ -You will lose yourself in nirvana on this very surface and then- i will teach you how to navigate the stars knowing that even if you lose me, you will find your way back. ...
