I feel the wrath of the sun
when I hear the sound of your name
being uttered by another
Never did I intend to feed the flames
of greed nor make my own pulse thunder
whenever I see them render
the divine face of yours into art
Yet here I am, my eyes burning cinders
as the uproar of covetousness starts
It is selfish of me to keep you
to myself but I can't risk losing you
- jealousy is but the fear of losing
ČTEŠ
honeysuckle evenings.
Poeziea short collection of scattered imagination verbalised into words. a love story in different parts. ©️ all poems belong to me. - cover: honeysuckle illustration from vectorstock - i do not own any of the pictures in this book. HIGHEST RANKS ...
