I have nothing to tell you
Nothing to define
No portraits to show
No Goddess divine.
Silent streams
Of tired dreams
Flow across the soul
With bursting seams
A fire is breathing its last
The taste of ash on my tongue
The burning within
When hope dies young
A song of abandoned shadows
Sung by ruins of temples
Where no gods rest now
Only pigeons sleep
I am waiting
At the end of this bridge
That shall crumble before us
The moment you step on it
And yet
I am waiting.
Don't leave the doors open
There is no breeze tonight..
A sad yet powerful poem.
ReplyDelete"Don't leave the doors open
There is no breeze tonight.."
If we leave the doors open, there may come a breeze tonight? :)