Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Flowers Of April

When fangs bite my breath
And beckon for my death
I saw a fall of sleet
And fell venomous teeth

Leaf sprout from fissures
And light strikes so demure
Like valley where drought matures
My soul summons for cure

A slowly close my eyes
And everything is out of sight
My spirit calls his vice
To take with me on flight

And when I reached the sky
There grows my memory
Scented and hanged so high
Subdued by stupidity

Finally I reckon my will
There’s no such big deal
Everything is futile
Except the reminisce of the flowers of April


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