The freezing hands are clinging onto the wounds of the past
Tears, moan, whine;
Turning against the true meaning of the story
For a cold heart, in the vein of yourselves
Melts with a warm hug, like a frost.
There will forever be sorrow and loneliness
With man endures searching for a sanctuary to mend
To front days into the room of happiness
Fates play
Even though it makes your heart ache
And a ray of light
May descend from darkness for us to grasp
To feel the fierce painful touch
To discern a persons warmth
As beautiful as it is miserable
For the great time is ephemeral.
We name this LIFE.
Fatin Wahab, Jan 2, 0033
my second poem. enjoy..
sorry...amateur..
for you, for me..from Him
