I laid down and sang my sorrows
with a migratory bird
who had melody for me to borrow.
Our voices merged together and filled the meadow with melancholy verses.
The song brought tears to my eyes
and shivers down my spine.
I was finally acknowledging
the existence of my demons
but I never knew the allure of sadness.
Now I realise
why art is admired,
it gives body to the cry of one's soul.
YOU ARE READING
The Truths of a Liar
شِعر"She is sane, no matter how trapped she feels; if anything at least she is braver in pretense." All the poems I upload are written by me over the course of a few years (and still going). Highest Rank 1st April, 2018 - #61 (Not an April fool's joke �...
