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cellelulu_itePoems
It strikes -- the scorching sun. Her hair is messed up in a bun. The habit. The veil. It was a chain. She walked passed-- Dashed on the abbey, Where she belonged. Down past the silent corners. Deep inside the high-unending walls. The deafening silence, The mute languages. Secrets. Enigmas. Paradigms. Hides the very thoughts of her shadows. Her history, Her memory, Her identity. Alas! Her name will forever be a mystery. Buried secretly in a discreet grave-- Wasted. Rotting. Concealed by the glowing epitaph. Unsheathe-- Destroyed she will be.
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
Conundrum Within
It strikes -- the scorching sun. Her hair is messed up in a bun. The habit. The veil. It was a chain. She walked passed-- Dashed on the abbey, Where she belonged. Down past the silent corners. Deep inside the high-unending walls. The deafening silence, The mute languages. Secrets. Enigmas. Paradigms. Hides the very thoughts of her shadows. Her history, Her memory, Her identity. Alas! Her name will forever be a mystery. Buried secretly in a discreet grave-- Wasted. Rotting. Concealed by the glowing epitaph. Unsheathe-- Destroyed she will be.
Unspoken words are the ones that are screaming out of one’s eyes.
#conundrum#secrets#enigmas#mystery#poem#poetry#pain#darkness#wasted#silence
cellelulu_ite
Written by
cellelulu_ite
28/F/Philippines
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 2:32 AM UTC
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