THE WOUNDED

Let me fall
Like a half-dead leaf
Of the hazy autumn
Unknowingly. . .
And shed the Browns
And wear some lively hues
Of the finest springs.

Let me flap
The wings of rebirth
Of colours of life
And of timeless bloom.

Listen O listen!
I am tired!
Tired of the ricocheting fall
That ends in the bed of thorns.

Let me strive
To heal my soul
For I am wounded,

Yes wounded I am!
Wounded to the core…
Yes wounded, WOUNDED!!
By the tides of stabbing…
Stabbing stabbing,
Never-ending gloom.

Share:
DaddYoda