When patience runs red,
Like poison that bled,
Times of darkened cold,
Worthless warmth be sold,
Hearts burn to nought,
So fervently sought,
Forever out of reach,
What must this teach,
Nascent flesh is shred,
When patience runs red.
One returns home...
Meloncholic...
ReplyDeleteIs this with regards to the Bhutto assassination?
Oops sorry. That happened later!
ReplyDeleteNo no .. this has nothing to do with Ms. Bhutto. This is just me venting some frustration.
ReplyDelete