Enough.
Enough of the pretension that the colour of love is red.
Remember,
When you crushed my heart under your filthy shoes
It was black that I bled.
And from that day it has become my favourite colour.
Though black is not the colour of my soul
It’s the colour of the hole
That you had punched in my heart.
Remember,
We used to cuddle
Under the blanket of blue beams,
While our eyes kept themselves busy
Sharing the same blue dreams.
But now,
I wake up every hour of night
Screaming your name from a black and blue nightmare,
My sweaty clothes cling to my body instead of you
And all of a sudden I feel so bare,
My eyes circled with darkness fail to witness you there.
Oh how I miss you breathing those words on my cheek
Holding me tight,
“Don’t be afraid of the dark my dear
For white lilies blossom at night.”
But you forgot to tell me
What time the black roses bloom!
Though it doesn’t matter now
As all my days and nights are full with gloom.
So, enough.
Enough of the pretension that the colour of love is red,
‘Cause black is the colour of my eye ball
And of all the tears that I shed.
Can feel the crushing of the heart as the color black punches a hold in it! A very intense and pervasive feeling of fear coming about and filled with gloom. Your poem leaves an extreme impression on the mind that cannot be washed away by tears. Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
I was astounded by the narrative in the poem which leaves a painful impression on the mind. Thanks for sharing this poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
heartache at its best