PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Give me, 
some poison to live 
I had been dead 
for many years. 

I burn my hands on a flame, 
blank space has started talking. 
I am ill at ease – 
My lips are not moving. 

The pellets, the bullets, the steel – 
nothing matters now. 
Dirty games can go on, 
I am going on bromides 
to ejaculate the pain. 

Sleep will not come in dark 
nor the relief in white robes. 
I will remain awake till eternity. 

Give me, 
some thorns to bleed. 
Rose petals 
are hurting now.