PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This wallpaper is dying 
never having seen the sun 
light crucifies all dark 

This life has stained my ears 
stolen my sight from seeing 
I am a house without a heart 

Beyond all sins 
Dark red rivers I swim 
for sanity is knocking at my door 

From these pores, I seek 
A truth that now has spoken 
Etched in the gallop of stolen time 

In the garden of discontent 
The lilies have withered 
stigma of scent 

Falls upon me 
You are a book of skin 
You are a book of history 

Sometimes I thought I could read you 
When I skipped a page etched too deeply 
In the echo of your memory 

I spoke , once too often 
I spoke, once too late 

I am a book of skin 
I am a book of history 
Now read me not 
No more...