My chasm turns black..
here its ashes turn blue
There's a dipping of something
from my fingertips...,
and my hair waters his drought..
My veins burst and a bird
flew from my heart..,
heat throbs round the cells...,
Sweat buries a ballad...
Our garden blooms again....???
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- Anonymous
Comments (5 so far )
SUSHREE DASH
Wow...
March 20th, 2014
Author
Thank you :)
March 21st, 2014
Author
:)
March 21st, 2014