• the_poetic_room 5w

    COMPOSE

    The sweet slumber doesn't come anymore,
    The eyes do not shut at night,
    The mind doesn't stop thinking,
    And the heart doesn't stop loving.

    I hear screams when I retrospect,
    All reasons seems intricate.
    Fit myself into the concoct herse,
    Here I contribute my last- verse.


    - $iddhartha
    ┬ęthe_poetic_room