~•~
Adrenaline rush,
And a rush of obscure feeling,
Wound is at the pit of my heart,
But I can feel
It's healing.
Waterfall like tears,
Have long been dried,
And my desert-like eyes,
Searches your being.
The scarred soul,
Has long been scorched
Of your touch,
The burst of raindrops,
Still doesn't sate my quench,
Of your taste,
On my lips,
Of the bitter truth,
That you ain't healing,
From pain that you're enduring,
Still,
Is for me,
And me solely,
As I'm the nightmare,
Of your supposed dream.
~•~
YOU ARE READING
Serenade✔
Poetry"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all. " ~Oscar Wilde __________________________________ ✔You stay under the carpet of my room, Dusting the corners of my soul✔ __________________________________...
