Ruins of a sculpture that once stood tall
Lay scattered blatantly, stripped of their pall.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there. ~Rumi
August 25, 2016 at 6:29 pm
Right. Let the world be lost in its reality!
August 25, 2016 at 2:22 am
to perhaps make way for a grander one ! It reminded me of something I wrote last year and I cannot help but spam your page with my poem :
My castle is falling
what use of running
pillar to pillar
begging for forgiveness:
they are of stones,
just like my heart.
LikeLiked by 1 person
August 25, 2016 at 11:06 am
I appreciate that you could relate your work with mine!
And this poem of yours is very beautifully written. It is heartbreaking to some extent which I love, because I tend to be a little morbid.
August 25, 2016 at 2:52 pm
There is a certain beauty about morbidness – perhaps the fact that it is usually honest, that I really like. I sound really sad , haha
August 25, 2016 at 3:50 pm
Right! I always thought why people found morbid writing boring anf wondered if I needed psychiatric help. 😛
August 25, 2016 at 3:57 pm
I think that too . Maybe we do ? Haha. But who cares 😉
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