Those scales and the silvery white skin
That you let me adorn
To exist in It too, is a far fetched dream
Like love from you,
In the worst of my pain
I am the fish caught for sport
Bleeding at my jaws, for the rest who pose
And then hurl me back
Rather indecently and worse in least inconsideration
But then again, if I should be dead
You possibly would reincarnate me
As what, if I would fathom a guess
A fish
To be seen streaking through the seas
Fleeting
Like my fleeting belief of your kind eyes
Always in your debt of this cursed existence
That I never want
No comments:
Post a Comment