At grave bed
Or the plinth of pyre
Where the funeral took place
Who cried
How does it matter anymore
Who praised
Who cursed
Bygones are bygones
Cause they are written off
And can’t be redeemed anymore
Those hands of yours does it, itch anymore
Those mouth of your does it spout nonsense
That nonsense that drove her to pyre
Ask her
While she moves to heaven…..
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Author:
spilleronsheet (
Offline) - Published: July 6th, 2022 07:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
Offline)
Comments1
Regrets eh' who would have em .. I know only too well how they can eat into one's soul ... enjoyed deeply spills .. I hope others will eventually pass by this way to .. N
I hope they will…maybe they did…but regrets who knows turns into yearnings and later obsessions…mind plays its own devilish games…thanks dear Neville……
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