widows by windows,
squatting orphans, searching tear
in the dusty road
in the land of death
a birthday cake in coffin
arrived for the poet
a mouthful of words
i puke, they call it silence
They - those artless lives
dip me in your tea
but free me inside the cup
Let me swim like fish
just the hopeless nights
sings melancholy of souls
which are called lovers
squatting orphans, searching tear
in the dusty road
in the land of death
a birthday cake in coffin
arrived for the poet
a mouthful of words
i puke, they call it silence
They - those artless lives
dip me in your tea
but free me inside the cup
Let me swim like fish
just the hopeless nights
sings melancholy of souls
which are called lovers
1 comment:
lovely.
the 2nd n d 3rd... very overwhelming.
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