Rosmin Elsa Mohan
Is it the shiver that runs down your spine?
Or the numbness that makes you whine,
Is it the antonym to the sweat of time?
Or the pain that reflects a bloody crime?
Is it not the unseen blood that flows?
When a loved one but gently stows
You away and not but see
You away and lets you free
Is it not the love you yearned for?
Is it not the love denied?
Is it not that feeling unmoored?
Is it not that face that lied?
Nothing is colder than love, for sure
A lie in love, the coldest ever
The hardest to live and endure
Is the predatory answer
Now or never.
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Comments about this poem (Cold by Rosmin Elsa Mohan )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1563 - 1631)
(7 May 1892 – 20 April 1982)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
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