Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

She is the living flame 
That burns the pages I write.  
She's the only reason
 My demons sometimes fight.

  It is the thought that haunts my mind,
 And the sword that takes my breath apart.  
She is the blood that flows into the pen,
 With which my heart weeps
 When I share my dreams.

She is the numbness
 That makes me burn sometimes.
  She is the tear that falls into the ocean,
 Trying to find out why I should stay lucid.

 She is the claw I feel in my chest
 When I miss her, 
When I feel incomplete,
 When I want to be listened by her emotions. 

 She is the living flame 
That keeps my veins warm.
She is the red sign at the traffic light 
For which I risk crossing the street.