sadness

many a times my hands it Touched the Sun,

the itch of burn, like the Waterfalls in June,

the Locusts of thoughts loveless in me,

lost in a maze confused by its own color,

fragrant Tulip no longer reside between,

yellow flower with stripes of Black,

it looks like a Bee build to crack,

the wind blows, a Petal fell,

so slowly like the Tears in your eyes,

streaming down your pink cheeks,

like a river stream,

from the Fountain-edge of your lashes,

to the Well of your chin,

it flows…it flows.

 

it flows in a Damp of Sadness,

it flows like the words in my heart,

the sodden Grief proclaims my soul,

Slowly it flows like flowers of epiphanies,

it clouded my Vocabulary with profanities,

in my mouth,

still the gloom Live in me,

hands still itch from Rays of the sun,

the lilies continue its Choir,

as my fingers tap on this letters,

with sore ligaments in my Heavy heart,

it grows…it grows.

 

it grows in you like a Fern in a farm,

it grows in you like Hate in your heart,

it grows in you like flu; like Cancer perhaps,

no edge of Blade to cut open,

no sharpness of Syringe for insertion,

y’re the breeze of thoughtlessness,

’tis Contagious, it lives on,

it blossoms,

it flows…O’ it grows.

sadness; always will it swell,

in my mouth, in my heart,

perhaps In my thoughts,

sadness �" my lonely Beret.

Reviews

[Breadrun]

Very nice writing and I can easily feel your pain while reading