Let me pour forth
The pain I feel within,
And the tears my womb harbour
Till I shrivel and die,
For whom I praise
Has sprouted as a whore
Amid beauties
That pride as monarchs.
Truly, I have experienced hell
In so many a way,
But your love defined a furnace
Which birthed hell itself.
Can I ever be revived again?
Time, please speak
Before karma visits this devilish nitwit.
©TurksonQuills
TurksonQuills 