Years are numbered on heaven's shore;
yet I wish the days were more.
I yearn for the days,
the bitter sweet moments
blood rushing on your face.
Now the memories are frozen in time.
The youth of our lives, buried, dying.
Your cold fingers
A testimony of the grave
Your tender soul
Belonging to the world's departed.
Red roses wither- the spring of my life ends.
YOU ARE READING
The End Of Spring
PoetryA collection of my poetry works... Hope you are inspired... Feel free to read and comment...
