Who has felt
the chill of solitude
greater than the desolate lover
bedeviled by the surge
of the zephyr of love
touching him
and swiftly blowing past
As long as I can remember
I have stood alone
naked to the bone
slivers of my soul
blowing like torn scraps of paper
against the hostile and cutting wind
now only waiting
for the inevitable...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
ok this is really good...
just one thing,instead of "now only waiting", I thought "only waiting" would sound better
This is something that struck me, there is this running strain of romantic longing and wistfulness mingling with self-pity in your poems...
Post a Comment