There is Only Hell at the TopA Poem by Sirajudin Matin
Faceless walls of stone amass
As shallow cackles callused crack What fall from grace Does man concern? For found in feeble frigid eyes A path which never clears. These Jesters screech their scheming sorrows; Such souls to have strayed... Stutter stunted talks in twisted tongues, Telling tales of no conclusion. Have I too lost? This hell about me spins; I dared step into the abyss, And now the abyss steps unto me; What hollow reflections lie beyond this dream? © 2011 Sirajudin MatinAuthor's Note
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Added on July 25, 2011 Last Updated on July 27, 2011 Author
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