Sorrow

My line
of burning desire
with hope has lost it's flame
My line has been cut
as if it was mine blood vain
to hold everyone´s pain

Like a rose
in desperate need for water
I am dry
my hands
have no hopes
no where to reach
I cry
salty bleeding tears
on my cheek bones

Now I must begin
again
I must
put together
every single sand dust
I must
build the strongest window
and learn to watch mine lost

Leave,
like you never did
I must admit
Time has had a taste of bitter vine
and its color has lost its beauty
and with a bitter taste in my mouth
precious time is lost

I loved you must dearly
Leave

by Malan Tyril

Comments (1)

nice poem...............