• aiswaryanarayanan 5w

    I caress your soul,
    Your bruise, your scars,
    Let them tell me the story,
    Of hurt and pain,
    Of love and hatred,
    Let me see you,
    The soul in you.

    Memories, some that fade,
    Some which stay
    Some inked to you.
    Let me read them all

    I see your teardrops,
    Running down your cheeks,
    I see you're hurting,
    But you're not alone.

    We're all made of glasses,
    We all break at times,
    Your shard cuts into my heart
    Run deep into my soul,
    Says you're precious than my all.


    ©aiswaryanarayanan