The world is getting colder;
But I'm warming up for you,
I'm strengthening my shoulder;
Still soon ,you'll send your adieu.
I've warmed up too much,
I'm burning you alive;
You are now allergic to my touch,
And my taste fails to revive.
"Aliens like me-
Are not to be trusted or loved,
But kept by a Banshee-
...deadly , untouched , unloved..."
*please followand leave comments and criticisms below, curious to know what you think and anxious to keep writing*
YOU ARE READING
Whiffs Of NostAlgiA
Poetry...memories , memories, memories.. that's all they are now isn't it...
