Cold Mine
When i look upon the moon, with all her stars, what are we searching for - Out of the intentions that roams our planet. why is love the feeling i am unable to create - I can never vocal to the cords, which strikes emotion inside love - I play the tune to midnight, i see only the bat holding hands with a rat - The echos of sight, left against the chains of right, who echo for his ego to see - Why do i cave my thoughts, i think, but do not sought - What springs to live, the cold, the shadow that creeps along a winters day - I need the warmth, the rap around of arms without the hand to harm - The touch of a soul, equally as cold, as preserved as in mine.
poem by Unic Cjonr
Added by Poetry Lover
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