I've grown to love myself in the lost
In the fade of smiles and touch
In the echoes of innocents and laughter
Twirling years of hair between my fingers
Where everything grows black
And the desert deep in my head transcends into blinding translucency
To the places of refuge where
Fragile flowers blow away from me and where
Clowns bleed upon my brow before tears can run down my face
The paths of panic I'll take to reach a cemetery of stopped clocks
And hushed dreams
Vultures stalk over them
Like flickering pieces of glass on concrete
And the love lost within me
I'm not bothered to find.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Write comment. Such a nice poem, Crystal R. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks