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Jul 2020
A demure sound to ****** my veins,
Only sorrow this heart has gained.
A deep longing in thousands bones,
Heartbeats are blaring on megaphones.
A mile of skin and a thousand veins,
That siren is he trying to disdain.
A caress in ear or a stubborn whisper,
My beloved, my back stabbing twister.
A seducing melody demands surrender,
It says, blood is better off six feet under.
So my beloved, my noose calls,
It says, tie the throat and do not fall.
The blood longs to run in wild as free,
For the veins sream, ***** me.
So demure sound and more and more,
I am making myself close one more door.
Written by
Ammar Ali  18/M/India
(18/M/India)   
226
 
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