It’s impossible to hang her on to be my second half; she has still rebelled in her feelings just like a body that has never been passed the history on it. She grabbed the chain from the rain joys around the flank of the time. How beautiful is our love in winter where coldness and warmness and coldness has passed to us in seconds.
The night takes us to the paradise of its darkness and the dawn launches with charm and exultation.
My body….. my body has been died when it lost the soul of love with in groans on the the billow that demands from phantoms to disperse its phantoms.Then it lays on a dream which lost its spark of speechless lightness, how often I reveal her to accept a night invitation before life doors has been locked. Before wandering around thirsty hearts
For losing the day I know her. The day I know her, without soul dwelling the body, heavy like a tar on heart breath. Understand the light while it was lightening of my edges of my words. How do you know that a letter has many multiple faces that was tired in withering then entered the passionate thought Multiple clouds of intonations that reads the prayers to keep something stick from sad past, pain swinging between desire and impossibly, you will see my darling that nothing is worth but your love when it becomes honest with its self.
The night takes us to the paradise of its darkness and the dawn launches with charm and exultation.
My body….. my body has been died when it lost the soul of love with in groans on the the billow that demands from phantoms to disperse its phantoms.Then it lays on a dream which lost its spark of speechless lightness, how often I reveal her to accept a night invitation before life doors has been locked. Before wandering around thirsty hearts
For losing the day I know her. The day I know her, without soul dwelling the body, heavy like a tar on heart breath. Understand the light while it was lightening of my edges of my words. How do you know that a letter has many multiple faces that was tired in withering then entered the passionate thought Multiple clouds of intonations that reads the prayers to keep something stick from sad past, pain swinging between desire and impossibly, you will see my darling that nothing is worth but your love when it becomes honest with its self.
Mohammed Yazen is an Iraqi poet and he is a member of the Tajdeed Literary Institute and the International Prose Poetry Society. His name appeared in Tajdeed literary magazine and Arcs magazine for prose poetry.
