Pain
I can fly
through the gleam.
Lullaby…
Rain drops
beat the roof,
pain robes
I can’t move.
Nerves are sick,
muscles tense…
Angst and shriek -
a dark stance.
In the vast
sea of spasms
my mind tests
sharp sarcasms.
Flying free
in my sleep
I will flee -
a bird’s trip.
O my God,
grant me flame
in your plot
keep me sane,
disconnect
from my chains
and inject
hopes - not pains.
Свидетельство о публикации №105012500210
I am moved by the passion, the purity, and the poignancy of this poem. Also the strength.
With loving regards,
Jena
Jena Woodhouse 25.01.2005 11:06 Заявить о нарушении
Thank you for your kind review. It is so great to have such special readers.
Love
Lena:0)))
А Н Е Л 27.01.2005 09:47 Заявить о нарушении