Details |
Gaia Ong Poem
The petals rains on me,
Smothering the blemishes on my skin.
An idyllic red bleeds to a crimson shade,
And my heart feels it once more,
Withered by my sentiments.
In the midst of reds and yellows,
Hands held out in a field of shadows.
Swirling in the echoes of a laughter,
Running away,
Chasing for the scent of a rose.
They said a prayer would stop the pricking,
Should I choose to hold on to a rose.
To embrace a memory made of thorns,
To linger on the pathway of forlorn,
And enjoy the moment of my fall.
But, a piano starts to resound in the heart,
And a tone of darkness blends in with the lies.
Its taunting melody sings of him,
While his memory turned its back on me,
The withering rose starts to cry alone.
What’s left of me is lost in you,
But I can’t find you.
Copyright © Gaia Ong | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Gaia Ong Poem
He used
to seek solace,
in the turbulence
found within
his own
distraught soul.
With
those words,
it brought him
close to
the brim of
yet another low.
In a state
of denial and
self-deceit,
where
peace
could be found.
And where
the lies
glorified truth,
the pain
satisfied
the fears.
But soon
he realized,
that a poet
fails to exist
in
his world.
As his mind
is an utopia,
and his words
conceal
the
hidden tears.
Copyright © Gaia Ong | Year Posted 2012
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