Monday, September 26, 2011

Diary of another insomniac

Living in the mist of your fragrance,

Today, tomorrow, tonight.

As the curtains of passion,

Fall upon a dishevelled night

Dancing to the symphonies of your breath

The artist in me comes to life

Forsaking the gazillion gaze

Of the awkward morning daylight.

1 comment:

  1. I was sitting near my table
    among my flowers,reading
    the bitter and melancholy book
    of the poet who knows my dreams.

    She came to me silently
    and said,
    If the poems please you more than my lips
    I will never give you another kiss.