This poem has two versions... I'll post both of them in the same part.
[Original]
He was the cold July rain,
His breath reeked of petrichor.
His voice resonated a harp,
Life thrived in it's chords.
His eyes were the color of sodden soil,
His skin moist like the damp earth.
He was an empty vessel,
Lead her to the greatest treasures.
Enticed her thoughts,
Exhilarated her pen.
He made her fall in love
With herself once again.
[Rewritten]
He was my cold July rain.
His tenderness brought along the mist.
Endearment trickled down with pain.
Eyes were the color of sodden soil,
Glass hailed down on earth,
As emptiness formed in the puddles.
Skin, moist like the damp earth and
Breath that reeked of petrichor.
The melody of his downpour
Trampled on life with his chords.
YOU ARE READING
Midnight Escapades
PoetryThis book comprises of original works of poetry which revolve around my life experiences, thoughts and ideologies, readers may or may not agree/ relate with some of them. But I nonetheless expect y'all to be kind and generous with your comments. ⚠️...
