As my lips carry the mask of sin-
Ink stained, locked within a lying grin;
Cloudy eyes stumbling in a grey haze,
Naming you, my forgotten Hendrix days.
Sending smoke signals pleading for release-
Lost in a cautionary tale for inner peace,
Dancing in circles of insanity shaded blue;
No words spoken between us ring true.
Melting like sugar under tortured rain-
Words cut me harder than cheap cocaine;
Covered in dying roses and living thorns,
A heart of blown glass still mourns.
Hurt never shows yet the pain glows-
Drunk by the memory of our final repose;
I find my way back to you and me,
Before I was paraded alone for all to see.
Hendrix days, rich music of discord and pain in this poem. Heart of blown glass, I cheer this poem and raise my flask. Great write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this one a lot!