Point your gun at my head
Play me till I drop dead
The worst of you will get the best of me
You can't get rid of me
Please won't you just love me
You touched my soul, now you can't just leave
Blow out my matches
Before you get burned
You thought but couldn't ditch the flames in my heart
Red roses in full bloom
Blood stains under the colourless moon
Ashes and knives, a thorny delight and bliss running through my veins
Waking up in the night
With you by my side
The peak of my life, a burnished white lie
You have a very fine command of imagery and the concluding line is sensational. And the contrast of pale colours (the Moon, ashes) and the red images is beautifully constructed. A fine intelligent poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Some incisive wording here, the images cutting and powerful. Love the worst of you will get the best of me, the matches metaphor, and the vivid imagery of blood stains under a colourless moon. Very well done. Bravo. :)
Thanks so much for your positive words :)