Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.148.185.226

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

Holding my hand guiding me to a garden of roses, 
He whispered , “spiral your way into the synthetics of voices and noises , 
Navigate through the patterns of Braille textures “, 
I held his hand , to only feel the drips of his helplessness , 
Smiling softly as I gasped into the spring air , 
The softness of the fresh fragranced petals brushed against my fingers , 
Feeling the senses running through my veins more than he could ever begin to imagine ,,
If only he could see the light in my darkness , 
And hear the voices in my head , 
He would not give me the stares of confusion ,
True that , the mirror seems like nothing but just a word, 
waking up to a receded eyesight could be every reason to bleed, 
I found my comfort through the silence of colours , 
As my heart cried louder in the quiet stillness of the night, 
The harmonies of the wind ,
The warmth of the sun and change of tides , 
Somehow the seasons seems to be more clearer in the shaded shadows, 
I felt the pain in his tears trying to blend into the rain, 
Indeed he could fool the ones with vision , 
For I am no stranger to the constant battles of dark revisions, 
Though I felt his intricate precision , 
I held his chest only to hear his sighs and highs ,
I refused to surrender into the darkness of the blind, 
Living in the creation of the world in my own mind

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required