New Writers' Corner


nudrat_lohani | 23 Feb , 2008  

Won’t you save me, hon?
Standing at your threshold,
Mundane madness.
My hair blows in the screaming wind.
And here they come.

Won’t you save me, hon?
Drenched in your holy water;
My demons gone mad.
Trumpets of the death parade.
And here they come.

Won’t you save me, hon?
My skin might crawl,
But I am willing to purge
My sanity.
Through the hollow heart
Of your prisoner.
Sweat beads of my penance
Lazily surface on my forehead.
Sluggishly climbing down my age lines
To your vision of the white.
And here they come.

And I leap.
Reach out for your halo.
My fingers forge through
Your holograph.

And here they are.
Melting us.
Purging us.
Merging us.
As your essence rises above me.

Oh honey,
Save me.

2 Responses

  1. Bithee says:

    A nice love-poem.


  2. Beautiful poem.I enjoyed.

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