The War of Roses

Tireless is the strikes of my loyal white horse Lightening speed, intense gaze She’s set up for the war of roses . Ask me the goodness of the existence of this black rose Indeed, as you assume now No virtue improves her No lesson teaches her No religion refines her . Save the delicate exploitation…

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Who Writes The Poem

Who would write the poem? I urged earnestly . Heart can’t write Weak patient She can’t even hold the pen . Thoughts can’t write Suspicious fellow She can’t even prove her sanity . Mind can’t write Conscious shamer She better deny . Memories can’t write Fragile child She better hide . At last Blood answers…

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The Blue Jay

All the towers of irony are crumbling All the palaces of mirage are sinking Gone are the days of rainbows Gone are the days of swinging from stars She is tried of being told how lucky she was Lucky you, my daring blue jay . And there is a light, from the higher window Shinning…

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Remember When It Rains

An angel flew through the stormy rain, Landed beside my fragile dream. Mischievously, She whimpered a message from you. . Did you just send a question? A question brings you sleepless night Have you asked a question? A question shadows your weary heart . No, my dear. I wasn’t a fair one Each sentence for…

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The Trophy Child

There was a time I dreamed of walking under the rain, With sweet tenderness by my side; There was a time I dreamed of running through the mountain, With wild strikes catching up behind; I dreamed of a dream, That my smile makes me enough; I dreamed of a dream, That my tears make me…

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Dear Ann

Dear Ann, My little one. My protector. Graceful and cunning. Invisible to all, You have fooled the world. *** Dear Ann, My troubled one, My destroyer. Bright and dark. misunderstood by all, You have fooled the world. *** Dear Ann, My poor darling. You have cried to my heartbroken. I begged a clue from you,…

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The Three Remedies

First, it’s best not to see. The mind will not be captivated; Second, it’s best not to adore. The heart will not be enslaved; Third, in the last resort, It’s best not to read her poems. The blood will not wage a war in her honor. More Poems : Meet Me When.. Read Next: To…

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