Milieu Of The Grin
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As I ramble on the milieu of grin
cared and carried by the flow green
yet maimed by the love as flower to bloom
as the morning waits for the sun to shine
exhausted never being bemused
though yet as bitter grim but sweetest still
lodged out breath as few hours to outbid
to reach the moon drizzling upon its gleam
even in deep dark yet braced by the love
when pierced even by the pricks of rose
in its petals as flesh oozing the blood
as blue by the moon when blinking to the sky.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş