Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Iam the pen that bleeds on paper,
The wail before the silent cry for help.
I rain on the fields of roses_
Drenching them , wilting them into nothing but sad silent whispers.
I am sadness_
The silent whisper of pain,
The lonely horse that rides through the angry woods.

 Yes lam the pen that bleeds on paper_
The hue of grey falling gracefully on a fountain. 
They call me grey_fountain