The Sleeper's Unrest

Shadows shriek in tumultuous cries,
at the burden of being left alone,
where the drowsy head of anguish flies,
with regrets of sin you must atone.

The heart is made to feel like a crime,
unsettled, with anxiety's wings.
So far it's travelled from lover's rhyme
only to tremble upon its strings.

The body has no need to caress,
for what was there has now disappeared,
but is filled with a tormentor's stress.
Its weary soul neither loved nor feared.




Poetry by Kiran
Read 802 times
Written on 2007-08-15 at 22:59

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