Our intertwined hands
Bring visions of crimson to blind me.
Suddenly I'm tied down,
Bound by rose vines.
Its thorns pierce me and draw blood;
The drops fall to my bare feet.
Surrounding me
Is the smoke from the fire we lit.
Passionate flames burn bright,
The smoke and petals fly away into the night.
YOU ARE READING
Venting In Verses
PoetryI vent here through my own poetry. The first few pieces aren't that good but I'm keeping them up to track my progress. So... enjoy, I suppose!
