Monday, February 9, 2009

a bastardized poem i wrote about a decade back which was completed in 3 minutes

day by day i'm losing control
only sleep at night does me console.
never have i felt this way
and never intended to feel this way,
and if you ask me why
i tell you this;

Nature herself her shape admires,
the gods are wounded in her sight.
and love forsakes his heavenly fires,
and at her eyes his brand does light.

there's a picture of her in my heart,
framed with my flesh and nourished with my blood.
will it fade away as time flies,
or will it anchor there till i die.

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