how can a silhouette not get enticed
by a kaleidoscope of colours?
how can a frozen heart not melt
by the first kiss of summer?
how can barren land not grow crops
by the embrace of monsoon rain?
how can a hardened heart not soften
by the caress of love after the pain?
you were my form of escapism
an escape from my blood-stained reality
you also sought forms of escapism
except you wanted to escape from me
and unfortunately, I can't blame you
for wanting to maintain your distance
your world is of sunkissed ecstasies
too divine for my mere existence
just like the sun and moon,
we shall remain in our own orbits
for if our worlds were ever to collide,
the consequences would be morbid
so till then, I'll gaze at you from afar
and absorb your healing rays
until I evolve into a golden bliss...
that
you
can
not
escape.
YOU ARE READING
the rose comes with thorns
Poetrywhat drew your attention to this book? was it the delicate red rose on the cover? ... or was it its thorns? yes, the rose is daintily alluring, but you will only notice the thorns once you take a closer look. i like to imagine my poetry as this thor...
