PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You shine high
when I was in dark. The
persecution still goes on.

What was love crime,
when you sleep in my arms
for eternity?

Who had angered
the flame of forest, that was
burning you without ash?

Tell me what blooms
in your chest, when at night
you look at the full moon.

I cannot assassinate
me, till you say goodbye
under the Bo tree.