My Grave So Dark And Cold…
I could hold my love in my hands,
As much as it was in my fate.
I would bury my worn out love,
Beneath so deep in the dark.
No one will look at this grave,
The woods will be quiet around.
There will be no birds singing,
The air will be so cold as ice.
No sun would shine through,
The dark and thick woods.
No mouth that I loved so much,
Would utter so bitter words of hatred.
No more anyone would visit me there,
This place will be cold and dark and full of pain…
© 2012 Pimmi Nag
Filed under: Death, Despair, Fantasy, Love, Nature, Relationships
