It was the color of purple,
the one of not so fresh bruises,
that happen to be alive
not by luck,but by citizens
of this world we call earth,
the ones whose mental health
lie in the states of breakdown.
With such inkpot,on my tender skin
was a story of troubles written,
even dreams lagged behind life
caught in some random year,
letting past fly ahead of future.
a game I let too long to be played,
which ended when you came
armed with smiles and goodwill.
no nightmare has ever stayed,
no hope been left uncalled
no fear other than losing you
and no pleasure bigger than you…
This post is a dedication to my friend, my soul sister, my love !
(You know it darling :*)
Also linked to Sunday Whirl , Sunday Scribbling , OSI ,