I walked down a bridge of fire
To reach a rose scented bower;
Reclining in its leafy shade a while
I rested, safe, serene:
But Hell fire followed me;
My life not burnt,
Yet scorched and singed
To graceless lump of flesh,
A Pariha feared and shunted,
Or submerged in heartless sweetness;
A self created purgatory
Rendering no escape.
No comments:
Post a Comment