Women pensively
Silent, sat, mute
Like a butterfly that had been washed
In a abandoned land
Women’s
Almost like a rain cloud comes blackening
The cloudy scare leaves and twigs
Folding down the trunk of vision
Roots shrunk back to its parent
Women’s
Wind storm in her chest
Waves reverberating in natural
The storms running throughout her body
Thinking about the natural of death in front of her eyes
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar