Honey

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Poem:Wounds in Love

It was twilight
birds were busy
in their last flight
I could hardly see
in the last rays
your charming face
the scene was losing its grace
our numb bodies were beginning to tingle
turning us from twos into a single
pink and blue
air and its dew
were going to mingle
when I got wounded
which made you weird 
but wounds in love are my dear
like medals in war
each and every scar
is like a glittering star
all strings of my soul
are strumming for you
like a new guitar!!

No comments:

Post a Comment