Beneath The Perfumed Present...

Behind the fine row of petunias and wild roses,
Where the piled up dreams stink like rotten eggs,
The broken promises chain me down.
And I'm tied to the stake of love,
Amidst the putrid fancies of my filthy past.

2 comments:

  1. deeps3:08 pm

    Beauty of life lies often in the past
    Yet, living forward to happen one has to scramble back to feet…

    Hey that red above is too deep to read

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. പുനര്‍ജനി7:16 pm

      :) Yeah I did change the colour... Thanks for letting me know! :)

      Delete

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