Where does my heart lie?
Along a road riddled with flattened carcasses?
On a bed pampered with Athena's silken robes?
I am certain that at least a part of it,
Is on the tip of a blunt knife.
It gets heavier and heavier,
As the burden rises the blood seeps,
I want it to stop growing,
But it is persistent,
Like how time never stops.
Nik Zaid Hanis
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment