Saturday, November 10, 2012

INTO THY SOUL

Why the touch of mine
Doesn't sip into thy soul
All the cells and tissues
The sloth is made of

O the coolness of the heart
Drag me to thy eternal den!
All way down the ravines
The arteries block thy flow

Creeping through life
Roaring a roar, urging!
Neyh, thee can't be
That which is so shallow

Facing towards the nature
Outside, the greenery of darkness
Unfathomable in thy abyss
I lay mournful sitting beside the grave

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