Wither Heart's Poem by Fatima Nusairat

Wither Heart's

Rating: 4.8


Here's the wheat spikes
in the first dawn joyful hours,
Loosen her braids,
while dew, slips above her neck,

roaming up, down and
approaching slightly as a nightingale's song
or as adorer towards those golden homes.

Here's the wheat spikes
in the first dawn joyful hours;
Loosen charming breezes

So why - as a gloomy cloud
my heart wither?

Monday, October 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: heartbroken
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