My mom said you're beautiful,
that day on dinner table.
But an year ago,
I struggled to find the pieces
of Aphrodite in you as you
drank your black coffee.
The hydrangea petals on
your bed, and dust on your books -
That danger in your beauty,
always starting a war between
hills and flowers.
A special sin, savage wolfs -
But you knew stories,
that my poems craved for.
You sang about a man who
seemed like my father;
Daedalus knew roses weren't worth it -
never believing in miracles.
You whispered about a man
who seemed like me;
Called him Icarus -
who loved the sun
and fell for the sun.
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
