Another poem written by me:
My lines would spark fires;
look into the heart of liars.
In your eyes I see a moon, ready to sleep,
and in your hand I see a sun ready to weep.
For chaos is alive tonight, but still not breathing,
Caged in his own little world, unable to hear this.
As I learnt myself, pain is a present, death is its gift.
Look into my eyes, and tell me, what do you see?
Do you see a pool of misery?
An ocean of black and never ending despair?
Or do you see a world of nothing.
When I die, all I can do is ask myself this:
Lord, why oh why, did I not try.
And forever in this cloth of white, and in the covering of night,
Shall I lie forever.
|