You pointed towards me your knife of vengeance
And stabbed me in the back again and again;
You tried to reward me the defeat of solitude;
You tried your best- but perhaps in vain!
Why blame a cactus for its merciless thorns
As it makes our hands bleed as we touch;
When the aesthetic rose can make us bleed
Inside our very hearts just as much?
My futile whispers, all meaningless tears
Couldn’t make it past your sound-proof ears;
My emotion is like a rusted dart;
Your metal mind it couldn’t pierce.
Some use the stones to build a God;
You used the same to build your heart;
You hurled them one by one at me
To tear my holy feelings apart.
Can you put some light in your bleak mind
And make yourself think a bit:
Didn’t you lose a bit to yourself
By trying to make me taste defeat?
No comments:
Post a Comment