Your hands are calloused
Roughened by the matinee of your tragedy
A play for fools
You who mattered once
Like the sun
Striking gold
Strewn rays of warmth
On gilded cages
And icicles that cling on
Children's eyes
Their cheek dappled with roses and innocence
Now you smell of lavender
And incense
It pervades once senses
I hurl my insides
And distanced
At the sight of a recluse
Broken and never will be fixed
You hide behind your rose garden words
Perfumed yourself with jasmine
Hoping to make the part
But try as you might
You cannot hide a wilting flower
In a bed full of blossom
You cannot mask the scent
Of death
That long overtook your veins
You are gone long before you came
With colors of all shades of gray
And you are oblivious
Of the bland and arid dessert
In your heart.
YOU ARE READING
Labyrinth
PoetryPoems I made during quarantine. A poem compilation about eating, sleeping and other things. I don't know what I have created. Read at your own risk.
