My love
Is a poem translated
Meaningless
Between the lines
It germinated
And bloomed
And floundered
In the memory of
The fallen flower
Wounded seriously
Fighting
With the insects
Buried themselves
Between the petals
My poem
Now
Is a morsel of
Crumbled words
Translated by the unknowns
With the pen
Filled with poison
This fallen poem itself
Is my love.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 5:14 AM UTC
My love
Is a poem translated
Meaningless
Between the lines
It germinated
And bloomed
And floundered
In the memory of
The fallen flower
Wounded seriously
Fighting
With the insects
Buried themselves
Between the petals
My poem
Now
Is a morsel of
Crumbled words
Translated by the unknowns
With the pen
Filled with poison
This fallen poem itself
Is my love.
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