The ashes of lust are cold,
flesh lies shrivelled on the aching
bones, the mind that dreamed
and the hands that touched
fabulous, quivering flesh,
are withered. Time has
taken back its gifts that
drove the fool to his fate.
22.-27.02.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
Ei kommentteja:
Lähetä kommentti