I have drawn your photo on my door
Impressive lines
Clear rhymes
I have written to you my messages on the sky by the clouds
Leaves are escaping from the autumn to the shadows of the spring
Trying to catch up with tomorrow
And watching the candles of the past
Candles are melting dropping lines of wax on my table
Drawing your face and burning what left of the autumn leaves.
Ashes are flying in my room penetrating the dim lights
And I am enjoying listening to your voice calling me in the background
Some cold and some fears
Hesitation
Why we are afraid
Of Leaves! Candles! Lines or ashes!
I had grown up drawing on the door.
3 comments:
at long last... some of your verses were needed to match the days. even if not at a picnic, it feels safe to know the voice is there, the eyes are destined for a sharp detail.
She is funny; the life that we once were maybe "condemned" or "priviliged" to live...We spend it burning candles, and looking back at them, looking back at the light they emit and the ashes they leave. We spend it chasing away the autumn leafs, waiting for the spring to venture out, once its here we promenade in the green fields collecting the spring flowers, then we endure the hot days of summer and enjoy its breezy nights... then again the fall and then the winter, again and again... in circles we go... Thats why i always say... its the journy not the destination that counts... becuase ; my friend : We only have 4 seasons. And looking forwards to the next season makes us carry on .... Majd
It seems from your cold lines that you still living or at least had lived a stable life because you either regreting something in the past or waiting for it as it didn't occure yet.
you are always trying to draw another picture but the girls picture still hunting you.
my friend, you have concluded your self in this piece of thought,nice one.
Eventually, i can't describe you as depressed humanly wise because you still have the hope of tomorrow.
Reham
Post a Comment