Poem: The Charisma


I am not a poet.
Yesterday, At mid-night;
I killed mine poem

“In circle of thirsty feelings
those bloodied words became martyrs…”
dictionary, the country of words whispered.

I looked into mine heart:
the veins of sorrows;
the veins of ecstasies;
were fully nerveless, unconscious.
I sighed. I cried …

I asked to mine soul of truth,
Now, how can i cherish the full moon?
How can i decipher this zigzag life?
How can i impress myself?
I have no charisma at all.
I have no charisma at all.

Share This:

Add to FacebookAdd to DiggAdd to Del.icio.usAdd to StumbleuponAdd to RedditAdd to BlinklistAdd to TwitterAdd to TechnoratiAdd to Yahoo BuzzAdd to Newsvine

Advertisements

जवाफ लेख्नुहोस्

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / बदल्नुहोस )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / बदल्नुहोस )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / बदल्नुहोस )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / बदल्नुहोस )