FREEDOM TO MUSE (An Original Poetry) DAY 56
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(I)
The tragic gong of death, have i not heard.
though through the biting adversity
we have felt the gnawing of the storm,
and the warmness of rum
have kept our hopes from freezing
we've tolled this gates of awesome disappointment
picking our courage in shattered pieces
like the wings of a bird sundered into the air.
(II)
our carnality have diminished,and taken a sabbatical
like killers with the conscience of a ghost
we've written letters dotted in blood
to buy forgiveness with our crocodile tears
but it's like corn eaten from a transparent glass.
Our heart is made of wool, but being life's fool
has made us made men with the hunger for vengeance.
(III)
Our graves is the only true home
we are but a roaming ball with no destination
a raving mountain without a volcanoes
unlike the piper to the tune
We've gone to bloody wars, armed with grief
we learnt the lesson burnt to the essence
our past, present and future is a place were we separatly exist
Our coffins are our only through friend
When we have finished our sojourn.
(IV)
We are lovers on the edges of a book
but timid fishermen on the banks of the sea.
We are unwritten songs like the mastery of Mozart
living inside the cocoon of our unbelief
crucified to our doubts and fear.
we forget to remember that we're made of clay
strong In the hotness of the sun.
but broken and shattered In the coming of the rain.
Sprouted from a deeply inspired mind. The analyses was handy too. Very nice poem. Good luck
thank you so much for your nice comment.
I really wish you can give me some insights on how to write very wonderful poetry. I visit your blog only to read poems. Your poetry sinks me into deep thoughts.
I still remember the woman within, you remember right? I so wish you can teach me some tricks
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