In a closet of afternoon
glowing memories
in deep red
words of comfort
holding hands
on a Summer's eve
blue lake
.. your eyes are dead..
reaching out
wipe the tears
..a colourless stain..
of longing
the heart..beats
like a resounding knock
on an abandoned door
..all is black..
2 comments:
is that door a metaphor for your heart???
@Humble: I humbly think it is.
Anki: This is lovely, and teh door pic is also nice. Just one thing that stands jarring in this portait of colors and words. the line, 'they are not of joy', does not quite fit in here.
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