Flowers from my grave

Promised land isn't made for us

So come and meet me in coppice

I will build you a home with my Ribs and bones

I will give you flowers 

They will protect you from evil spy(s)

These flowers, cumulated from the graves

The graves 

that are buried in shroud

with aches and sorrows of my heart

Don't tramble them

Darling boy

They are drenched ,with my grittiest tears.

The tears shout 

the words unsaid

Yet only to espouse my biggest fears

And when after years

You will scrutinize

them again,

Filled with strength from sorrows 

They will remain same.

I can't give you fresh one, they do foul..

Mine are dead , plucked from my nerves

to weave me disguise and embrace your soul.

keep it to yourself for I am afraid of the bigotry of this world

to scorching lustre of your big fiery eye,

these flowers are fossil of the strength

 yet a vague lachrymose facing the sky. 

                                                                           ~ Sammy Somal♡