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Strangers

Blow out the candle and leave us strangers here
We are two parts of the night, so what is the meaning of light?
Light falls on two fancies under the eyelids of the evening
Light falls on some shrapnels of hope
I was called we and I call myself I:
Hot ashes. We are here like light
Strangers…
The pale cold gathering is like a cold day
It was a murder for my anthems and a grave for my feelings
The clock rang in the darkness nine and then ten

And I with my pain hear and count. I was puzzled
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Colleen Courtney 14 May 2014

An enjoyable read.......

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