tyrannized ghosts

oppression, chained voices that want to speak but not allowed to......

Anarchy hurled in the anchored roots

Cracking the pavement of sagacity

 The broken porcelain vases got tossed around

 And the pens of reciting had dried up

Leaving priceless words behind the manacle rods

Roaring with pitched voices

 that reached everyplace 

and no place had opened his ears to hearken

Sad veins clogged its passages

 and mourn the seconds of breathing

Remorse had built the fateful spear

 and torn the membranes of desire

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

This poem is roaring with chained voices that want to break free from opression and servitude. I like the idea of mourning the seconds of breathing...That is impactful...Bravo

[Latifa]

thank you for the read my good friend

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)....................

[Dr. Wood ?]

powerful stuff Latifa....................

[Latifa]

thank you dr.Wood