NIGHT
With the scent of linden
&
dying star in the sky
...
through FINGERS RUN a blind eye darkness,
COLD AS a human word
.....
WIND wind throw the dust
conceived and born in despair...
From the ceiling
Fallen
late thought's
...... In The ....
scare,dreamless despair...
instead of tears came-which is not easy to be a poet
another two, three metaphors
cowardly/// to sleep this night
NIGHT
With the scent of linden
&
dying star in the sky