You used to say that if I wanted to know myself more ,I had to approach the sun.
And if I wanted to know you,I had to get closer to the sun even more.
I approached, closer and closer, unafraid,
Looking into her eyes,
Until I burned myself and all the butterflies around me.
Yet I couldn't see you clearly.
I couldn't see the deceit and wickedness,
As if my eyes were filled with the ashes of burnt butterflies wings.
YOU ARE READING
Taste Of Anger
PoetryI choose anger instead of sorrow I prefer madness over sadness I never want to be a victim. cover © : SIILDA
