Pried from fingers of ice, that twitch in slumber,
Death's eyes suck open forever in wonder,
A hall made of silver, and ribbons of jewels,
Wings of a heartbeat rippling pools,
Gone are the aces, talons and maces,
Only to be changed with flowers and cages,
None can be found, until trees look and see,
Once forgotten and lost, now holds the key,
Waves will churn wild, the lost one will burn,
Till death do they part, and none shall return.
YOU ARE READING
Alatus
PoetryDo you know what 'Alatus' means? Winged. Wings to fly away from reality, wings to sweep stars into my life, wings to hold my dear ones close. My poems make me winged. Every word, every line. They're packed with my imagination. And now, I'd like to p...
