Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2020
As cold fire wrapped around sight / (the blood to my veins)

Purpose-emblazoned beauty cascaded / (beauties that will never be yours)

Dropping the hatchets armed to teeth/ (his walls came down for lack of restraint)

Looks that swept base instincts


I understand now

if love was meant to stay

love wouldn't end up



this cold.
O, cold, ye seven are.

I keep procrastinating.

I may not be able to write anymore for the time being,

But I still can transpose.

Orange bride. I wish to forget.

4th of February, 2018.
Batchelor
Written by
Batchelor  30/M/Singapore
(30/M/Singapore)   
80
   Batchelor
Please log in to view and add comments on poems