PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was inheritance 
of age 
before the mirrors 
for the language of windows. 

The high rise buildings 
always cast a pall of gloom.earth seems to slide 
and I cannot reach the sky. 

I want to say 
what I did not want to say. 
The lake has gone in a siege 
till infinity. 

Wrap me a sharp knife 
I will cut my tongue today 
to offer to goddess of shame. 
The light has gone away from my heart.