Existence
It had rained all night in
the world of shadows, so
much that it caused flood.
Plight of the rumbling
tear drops, screaming for
the voices left unheard.
Death hushed life to sleep
as it poured, the fine line
of entity was blurred.
It had rained all night in the
world of shadows, a deluge
of my forsaken blood.
YOU ARE READING
THE PREMISE OF LOVE
PoetryMy Poetry, the art form of the soul, is an exquisite tapestry of language that weaves together emotions, thoughts, and experiences with skillful craftsmanship. It is a captivating expression of the human spirit, transcending time and culture, to tou...
