Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I write,
Like born with curse,
And roam with gun, evil.
A normal heart, a normal life.
Farewell.

Farewell to my writing.
Iambic cinquain.




I see writing as my passion, like one of my wing, and you're my other wing. But what if one wing hurts the other. I thought I can be with both wing and fly.

But it was like, I born with curse, and walking with a gun, like an evil ready to hunt down even my dearest peoples. I would loose myself rather than loosing you. 

All I want is a normal life with a normal heart, I don't want to fly, I just want a normal heart which loves self more than others. Farewell to writing, because I can't afford to loose you.