some talks, some emotions, some expressions & some silence

Search This Blog

Wednesday, 28 April 2010

She, is dead

There is a revolution in my head
There are incessant deaths, blood all over
Every moment she dies in my heart
Not a suicide but a murder
By the foes of frolic and traitors of time
And when my eyes not often try to talk
And when I serenade to the petrified dark
I am silenced by her echoing soliloquy.

1 comment:

Thє [SτσIc ™] said...

the closing lines were awesome .. playing a serenade to the dark .. kudos to the imagery