Burning Soul Poem by Wafula p'Khisa

Burning Soul



Every time I watch the sun set
I pray it rests with your tears
but the shadow of darkness it casts behind
leaves no room for the moon to wave it's hand of light

the flesh has been severed by the surgeon's scalpel thrice now
and fed on the bitterness of drugs
but it's growing no healthier
could this be a warning to us?

I've watched you wince in the face of a needle
and wept bitterly, fearing for you- little dove
you crave to free your soul from tidal waves of pain
but aren't ready to pay the cost

joy is a dream to the grieving.

Friday, May 26, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: suffering
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 26 May 2017

sgadow of darkness cast behind, good

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