--Don’t frown, don't look back,
The flowers have turned against the thorns
and your youth to time.
Can you hear the echoes of your heart?
Its blank mood, tenderness which may break apart?
Rest your legs in the green,
take of its burden, love & lust.
Live, lie ,die in the couch of forgetfulness,
Your abstract silence, colours the blissfulness.
Tune into your roots and redefine your grace,
We,
The puppets in the hands of drunken god.--
No comments:
Post a Comment