A Cold Rainy Morning

If only I may,

think of my heart’s fray,

when my dark curtain appeases,

is when life itself ceases. 

The raindrops carelessly dance,

patting my shoulders softly,

again I am in a trance,

that mirrros my worldly glance.

If only you may,

turn to my flurried pray,

if you would my heart hold,

then life would surely unfold.

Alas the rain is cold,

quivering my spine too old.

the airs breathe gently,

as my forgotten quills fold.

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Published in: on 09/03/2017 at 12:48 PM  Leave a Comment  

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