Saturday, 25 February 2012

Ice cold

After burning the skin of my heart,
Why do you knock darkness of my heart?
The tear droplets of pain became my words in rain,
All these words in rain became poems insane,
The cry of burnt skin reached the ice cold paper and pen,
As cold as ice and pale as white became my plight in a flight,
The numbness remained and darkness stood still deep within.
 


No comments:

Post a Comment