I wish the sin that burns

my conscience

Dwells in my heart ravish

my patience

In unfaithful arms I crush

my feelings

But freedom I feel in discreet



There I stay still, un-beautifully

Tied up

Deciding if finally my mind gets

Fed up

There is no such thing as eternally

In love

I’ve seen lovers chasing dead doves.


Who am I to say that’s all there is?

Though my memory comes back with unwelcome ease.

I used to write blue sky and flowers

Now I read great words mental slaughters




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