by : Bacardi Gold
13/april/2022
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Frightened by the outburst of storm
all of me became damp soaked with guilt
can’t fly with feathers wet with sins
I beg the sun to dry me not to wilt
Felt the mood of my spirit being sold
to the devil in exchange of a crate of gold
emptiness seized me and gave a rousing roar
embraced me closer to knock at Satan’s door
believe me, my life is in shambles
tears are washing away erected holy temples
my heart’s in pain going around in circles
take my hand, i badly need a miracle
in the worst of times i could only cry
helpless to be me i could only die
but thunder became so quiet like the moon
wounded heart played tough
and it’s a miracle too soon…
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Triangle Writes... 