Dull the knife that rests heavily upon my brow, I try to make it through the day, but I am not sure how. Gasping for air I have lost all control, I am losing my mind, my body, my soul.
Waiting for a breeze. A strong fresh breath, Met by a torturous silence; a soul’s kiss of death. Echo’s of ancients, treasures from the past, Tread ye the weary, the lone, the outcast.
Wash away my sorrows gather my tear stained heart, Take captive my soul, just rip it apart. Dull the knife that rests heavily upon my brow, What need have I of my heart anyhow?
© Cynthia Clark
@realisticpoetry
www.facebook.com/forestsflame
It is a poem which is define here, It is only to share my message with you because i cannot get any other way to define best essay review of these pages. I am trying to convey my message through poem and now it depends on you how can you get interest in it.
So good i had to read it twice