All the Hectic Hither
As it was
When it is finally done
For this soul and
All the Hectic Hither
When my hands are clinched upon hate
And my restless mind
Stumbles to the cold
With a faultless mischief
Bringing barriers
Floating in the wind
Flying without thought
Tasting the sweet, deep, cold thunders
I laugh even when i cry
I cry even when I laugh
I love even when I hate
My tears no longer moves you
My sad but yet happy face deceive you
As it was
And always will be
The sentiments of one's heart
To Desire.....
Copyright © Connie Moraba | Year Posted 2014
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