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:untitled 28.6.08: by ~ija8879:iconija8879:



The light shines. These eyes are burnt by the Sun's
gaze, yet my soul hides in your cooling breath.

The heavens gave birth to a dragon, the
son of hell's fire, but who gave life to you?

The question echoes. I wait till it's night
and then I ask. A silence answers back.

The midnight fog rolls like a ripple of
soft fingers down my spine. Your touch is loud.

I listen to your words of silent ice.
The crystals make me shiver. Heart trembles.

Your frigid currents kiss my lips. A blue
splash of dull colour smears them with your name.

I cannot read Urdu. An ice-plume of
ashaar is lost. Your name must go unread.

A cock crows as the blackness flees from the
heat of a star. I'm captured once again.

The shackles of day sear my flesh, and hold
me hostage. Struggle's fruitless in all ways.

Hope fails. My heart cries out, but I cannot
remember your name. Still, I yearn for you.

Desire's a spark in a dry brush. Once
lit, flames devour all. My soul's consumed.
©2008-2009 ~ija8879
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Submitted: June 28, 2008
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Author's Comments

Someone obviously likes the cold night...a lot. I don't know. I hate being too cold. *Shiver shiver*
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i love this. its wonderfully written. keep up the good work.

Magnifique.

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Taking over the world... one cheeseburger at a time.
Thank you! :-)

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