Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2020 Newsha
Mark
I'd long for sorrow, if that sorrow comes;
By touch or voice that she bestow to me
Compare to nought, displeasure then becomes
Attention I have yearned, that mine could be,
Despite such poor reception mine be worth;
That I'm recieved, delights to my neglect
And gives more heartfelt meaning to my birth
That beauty slights their hair, for my affect.
For I, if in my loving kingdom meet-
Her scorn, her frown rekindles then love's hope;
In one as dried of love that love shall greet
And with her bitter sweets, shall both elope:

And brush this shadowed heart out of it's dust
Till then of greater scream: 'now love's a must!'
 Dec 2019 Newsha
Mark
The sadness has me helpless as the sand
Awaits for waves to drown upon with salt
Yet even granules know when tides do land
But pain's unrhythmic swells are timed to fault.
With heaviness befalling on my view:
That better be the air, if none found here;
Nor ever were, nor should have been or knew,
For none about the Sun can mine endear.
Each breath deems stolen out from greater lungs:
A weary war my will is not to win
For yonder cloud is death and death's all tongues
Inhale for why? When lifers is life's sin.

Relentless as the waves, such flows the pain
But with me and have left the deepest stain.

— The End —