In the dark, unseen by night
Spot on her face, a raindrop's proud
Her lamp had run out of fire.
With an axe in hand, she split herself in two.
"Am I still pretty?" she asks, her heart aching sore.
"If I'm not, burn me pristinely because I hate all of me."
Heather in the crying weather,
But is she unlike others? Let bones break.
Then feed them to stray dogs;
For mirrors never lie, my eyes are not foolish, and I can't deceive by disguise.
YOU ARE READING
The Amorist's Magnum Opus (A Poem Collection)
PoetryDepending on the path that we walk through and the way we understand every single step that we take on it. There are various ways that we give meaning and deal with love and life. Consequently, it shows that the odyssey of experience is obviously no...
