O Muse, your words are music to my content,
The fortress crumbles, my soul's bent
To unravel the rust of this wretched body,
Devoid of existence, the temple of malady
For I hide beneath the mask of Apollo
And flaunt gaiety with face unbarred
The tears not seen under the veil,
For my pain is just a dust on the scale.
If I die tonight, would tomorrow cry for me?
Would the world shed its heavy plumes?
And dust my ashes to the winds?
Or would I crumble like the ruins
Or my memories fade under faint skies?
If my soul trembles, what would've become of my body?
If my fate is laid, what would my future behold?
Unrivaled woes and grievances,
Would tomorrow be uncertain if Death be its gain?
If I die tonight, would tomorrow cry for me?
Or would I be just another tombstone?
2 comments:
nice poem....
Nice post !
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