Yes, hidden is the partial tale,
from a heart that awakens not,
may love enthrall uprooted plants,
but, not a man that love forgot.
As we all are born -a yesterday,
again will be, when today shall tread,
and so carry on with this delay,
until a lover's sweet words be said
And morbid if my heart does turn,
a place with spiral toxic cold,
where tears do crowed the rivulets,
would the wet air my sighing hold;
So if sorrow such on my behalf,
does tear apart, a haunted chest,
Still, her name would be my epitaph,
And her love the ever staying guest.
YOU ARE READING
Emblem (Poetry and Rhyme).
PoetryA collection of poems that flow from the page, right into your soul, transforming it from within; forever. The poems in this book focus on diving into the deepest and darkest recesses of the human mind and the human condition. While, finding peace...
