I thought it will be
A nowhere leading road,
a small puddle in the sun.
My hope grew with every sight,
every touch, every kiss.
My hope killed me,
your fortune was
to leave me,
to take my life.
I am tortured infinitely
day by day, more and more.
Hope to pass away,
repenting my sins,
paying my dues,
being punished
for what’ve you done.
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 11:38 AM UTC
I thought it will be
A nowhere leading road,
a small puddle in the sun.
My hope grew with every sight,
every touch, every kiss.
My hope killed me,
your fortune was
to leave me,
to take my life.
I am tortured infinitely
day by day, more and more.
Hope to pass away,
repenting my sins,
paying my dues,
being punished
for what’ve you done.
Request permission to use this poem