So deep

Here hidden is a doubt
Of wether truth hidden lies,
Or occasionally surfaces about
In sweet words, eyes, hearts silent cry.

Do you believe in the covers
Of emotions and those feelings,
To kill by false show upon another,
In sorrow, repetition of senseless things?

But even now neglect,
In its lightest form, the heart it destroys.
And if you more sensitively inspect
I, in all my dreams, falling almost to die.



Poetry by vidura rambachan
Read 404 times
Written on 2020-04-26 at 10:02

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