Open Chapters
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All the stars became questions with lies.
All the flowers became dead wisterias.
After the hail, 'twas the greatest mistake and getaway.
The clouds above him turned into roses in May.
He lost himself, tried to disassemble the monarch.
Yes, he was a scar who left a permanent mark.
They said he's an abuser of minds and nine wives,
He was playing gambles and fictional ten lives.
He wondered why his words became your name.
He is a necklace, carved with echoing shame.
Do you know why he went to a faraway land?
Leaving the vestiges for you to roam the island?
I lost my way back home; where is the matriarch?
Yes, I am a scar who left a permanent mark.
They said I'm the executioner of sonnets and rhymes,
The phrases became knives and unsolved crimes.
All the constellations became maps without range.
All the vines became handcuffs, killers exchange.
After the hail, my world is deja vu; I was bygone.
The clouds are holding photographs of Liaison.
YOU ARE READING
Cornelia Street (Republished)
PoetryThrough sonnets inspired by Shakespeare, I reveal intimate secrets I've longed to express, despite fearing they'd go unheeded. They capture the anguish of unspoken emotions, yearning for acknowledgment, only to face silence. First Published: May 5...
