it's a torched wind rushing into my arms
like a dreary pale leaf that wants an embrace
in dusty minuscules of sullen, sultry soil
i step out, open my heart to the sun-dried soul
glutinously holding back to me in sunk roars
the wind drinks every drop of my fluid state
i shiver in languor, i bear up with strength
and thus is revived the breeze everyday
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 3:34 AM UTC
it's a torched wind rushing into my arms
like a dreary pale leaf that wants an embrace
in dusty minuscules of sullen, sultry soil
i step out, open my heart to the sun-dried soul
glutinously holding back to me in sunk roars
the wind drinks every drop of my fluid state
i shiver in languor, i bear up with strength
and thus is revived the breeze everyday
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