Poetry

AWAKE

There are your flaws
shivering in these clouds
Less
winds fighting over inheritance
of night by its might
Through
the same pale pricking strain of fate
dangling in the loops of dawn
Dusk
Is a page of garbage eaten by today
swallowed by another, same as a leverage
Bribed
intents with souvenir of poured calls.
Let the ticking sound stop the bells of
Time

Previous Post Next Post

You Might Also Like

No Comments

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.