Don’t Say | Poem

Most mornings, I wake

To the voices I loathe,

Knowing there’s a sin

Committed going close to you.

We’re doomed; craving each other,

You don’t speak words your heart

Sings rhyming a death’s tone,

Clutching necks once alive recalls.

Deathra, hopeless lurks inside my temple,

Claiming the desires I kept hidden,

Today or tomorrow, I may kiss last,

The abominations or the sanctuaries,

Which brings a single ray of sun.

Don’t say, we’ve not loved enough.

©sjwordsmith

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