As clock struck twelve,
I started sinking in the pool of blood,
The broken glass piercing
deep into my flesh.
Sprinkled blood
All over my face,
Unable to keep up with the pain.
My skin leaked from the wounds,
Muscles wearing out
in the long run of time.
The needle through my skin
knitting the wounds
Inducing silent cries,
I swallowed all my tears
down the throat.
Cracks fell on the delicate fingers
passing through the nails,
The weak bones
Held the moans
of the midnight.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
YOU ARE READING
The burning rose (Completed)
PoésieA book of poems Not related to rose. Except one of them. 18 poems which you may or may not relate to. I hope you like it. Pls show some love if you did like them, it would make my day.✌ #thecosmicawards2018
