Bitter Is Sold
By the road, i am gathered -
Lost to lost -
Not to my belongings -
Not to my longings -
Soft does melt inside -
The heat measured by frost -
Alone by choice, easy to fake -
Break I do, the broken songs of Take -
Instructions received, at the voice -
Falling sounds by crystal clear flakes -
Stories became many, never to be told -
Death has a grip -
The knot to rope by a slip -
Breathe the chair for repairs -
Hanged by the hand -
Hell has a chance -
Holier to stand on nomads land -
Bitter is the breath i hold -
Bitter is the breath I sold
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Comments about this poem (Bitter Is Sold by Unic Cjonr )
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