O floating cloud! 
Take me to the end of the world
Deposit me on a solid piece of ground
My fists need to bite every inch of dust
My arms need to embrace the thin air 
And declare their nothingness
My hidden tears need overflowing 
And this thorn in my throat 
This thorn in my throat  
Scratches my voice
Blood pours out of my words 
And I breathe in a touch of silence 
The antidote to a dozen weeps 
I cannot withhold
I am one with the serenity 
Of a frozen lake, 
And The tranquil  ‎blackness of winter nights
O floating cloud! Be proud!
I have no wind to carry me anymore.
Tina RSH ©
13.07.17
7:23 PM