Stucked in the room;
Corners full of gloom.
Windows opened as I hear the psalms
Then I see you working,
Looking again in the stars.
At my house, as you light the torch
Marking luminance after the porch.
Mine, as I evenly sight,
Not just by your light
But by the pen's pivotal write
Surely, it is pure as white.
I feel the whispers on the street.
I see the whistles of the wind.
I shiver in the moment;
Waiting for someone to arrive.
About to return from the room,
Whispers became loud and not poor.
The atmosphere became loose,
This time, emotions are not excused.
I looked up the starry sky to assure,
And saw the star is under gravity's pressure.
YOU ARE READING
Chains and Ruins
PoetryA piece in which chapters of a chained heart are freed from ruins. A poetry.
