Too many goodbyes, too little time,
My life deserts me, for no reason nor rhyme-
The witch's power ends here,
No redwood nor thyme
Shall save the day.
My soul leaves me,my breath flies away
Stand, hold still, Beloved,dont sway...
...The serpent raised its ugly hood again.
And hissed in mock frevour;
The nights that cloud my gauzy dreams
Bless my heart- a silent tremor.
Too long I've sought
A moment's reprive;
A long drawn breath,
A plaintive sigh
A comforting touch
A shoulder nigh.
"No more", he said,
"Shall you laze in dreams
Of a crimson morrow
That shall never come.
They think you're here to stay, your precious moonbeams,
You meant not the goodbye
'Coz you harboured dreams-
That thyme and birch shall ward me off;
Not to be, I bid you come
Shall drown you in rich venom
No pang you'll sport,
You'll feel no pain
Dawn on you it must, again,
Death, is but a matter of gain."
3 comments:
I am trying to read all your posts. It will take time but will read.
Bhaskar
thank u bhaskar, do i know u? how did u stumble across my blog?
I wish i can read all these post in a single day... right now i m confused which one is best..:)
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