ෆ::
Close the windows,
Close the doors.
Hide in shadows,
Run the moors.
Steal the clouds,
Let it rain.
Silence the loud,
Keep the pain.
When white turns black,
And nothing's back.
Heal your wounds,
Do not be fond.
The lady that cried at night,
Was never again seen at the sight.
Where is she? Is she alive?
A question with no answer until it was Five.
You are not safe,
Nor are you in bliss.
The danger has withered the flowers and the last leaf,
And nothing's the same, are you still at peace?
::
YOU ARE READING
HER BOOK OF POETRIES
PoetryA compilation of poems that I wrote throughout the days.
