Everyday
I succumb,
to the cold world.
I turn numb.
the warmth returns,
when I dream of you,
and a passionate night
follows through.
Arises with the rising sun,
the harsh realities of life.
I am compelled to
burn my dreams,
to stay strong and survive.
I wake up with
the ashes of
my dreams,
burnt dead.
Numbness returns!
(c) Archana Bora
2 comments:
Bhy sho glum????
Lovely poem but shows that u need some cheering up!
Me.. No.. Its a sad poetry.. I am cheerful as ever :-)
Post a Comment