Was it love or was I blind
All things end with the passing time
To know or not in my mind
Sublime and eerie haunting rhyme
Whispers softly as it hides
The trebles of tremble in the voice meek of rebels
Fallible fiction of hope constitutes little
Running away from troubles
The feeling of unlovable
..
Cowardice of the heart stops
When this is the only moment
Sequacious gold armaments
Wonโt speak like print on paper
A blackened heart surely will be squeezed dry
Until our inner voices narrate in thumping beats
And the inkling of our desires run rampant
..
The devotion of a sister in black cloth
Highlights her face in a frame of white
Is the forgiveness for my obscenity lost
In all the horrid things I may come to write
Will you still be able to recognize me
When this blood runs dry
Scrawled because I emphasize that we
In love will surely die
Her hands gentle like the morning sun against my skin
Traced the words of her prayer, a cross for a war within
ยฉ The Sad Owl
Categories: poetry
The Sad Owl
I'm just here. Until I'm not.
The struggle is real and this definitely is expressive and beautifully written again. ๐ you have such a beautiful flow . It’s elegant. I don’t know how to even properly compliment your work so forgive me if I sound assumptuous. Your writing really is incredible.
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Thank you for the high praises! Calling my flow elegant was a little intoxicating to hear so I will have to make sure to not let it get to my head so I can try to continue writing as eloquently as possible hahaha. Thanks again ๐
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Aw no problem ๐ it’s true ! And you’re welcome again my,fellow writing friend =]
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I enjoyed this, also.
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Thank you, I am glad you liked it!
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