Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Our life seems to be controlled by the dead woman
snoring within the sniff of blood
Dead roses
white linen
Your being still
cotton stuffing
to look steady

Dead woman you're a myth
But Hallelujah
Hallelujah be to the One we
we chip off
we chip until his short
and we taste
and we sip
and we sip
So much that there's nothing left oh Him

Glory be to Him
who's arms are wide open
whose chest is waterproof enough for our bitter tears
Whose ears are open enough
to hear us even if
our prayers echoes in the apex of our hearts

Glory be to Him who sees us 
even when we are
invisible

Glory be to God
Who stands right at the end of our road
Welcoming us after rejecting Him
countless times