My heart has repressed every ounce of pain and torment it had ever seen.
It had withered on its own,
From ceaselessly dancing to those nostalgic melodies..
Now having this extremely weary nature,
This mysterious shade of black
It had punished me and had sewed my lips with threads of never-ending silence..
And it had eventually turned me into this bloodstained book
No one will ever dare to open.
YOU ARE READING
BURN MY SOUL, KEEP THE ASH
PoetrySometimes all we genuinely need is the realization that people out there, share our own thoughts and feelings. This book is a collection of Poems, inspired by personal events, almost anyone can relate to. It's the poetic expression of various though...
