I am sinking in a Stygian trench so deep.
Pain seeps through wounds unabated;
Am I a lump of unresisting clay in your hands?
To be molded in shapes you command.
You imprisoned me in the impregnable castle of your l desires.
But woe to feeble restrains,
For my soul not imprisoned,
Free and desultory are my flights of imagination.
Flames of detest borne from detention singe me!
Where are those eyes to look inside my lesion soul,
Are you the magical, mystical comforter who turns my bleeding soul into red rose..
Love is like a sweetish intoxicant, killing me softly.
Free from the shackles of pangs that starve me to nothingness.
Tears of blood are falling from my shattered heart..
My skin is untangled with invisibly seen scars of times.
Blurred am I like words of a wet, moistened page.
Ah, my heart is weathering to shreds in a body tormented.
Do not fret dear!
A tattered soul does need your morsel of compassion.
Can you be the sun that glitters my soul?
But you are like a moonless ageing night which haunts my soul.
It’s so hard to paint thorns with the color of roses.
But strive I must, bleed I must!
