Some words of mine
win me wreaths of laurels
around me
even if I don't deserve
nor I wish it for me
or desire to be wished
or kissed
by poisoned lips!
Some wounds of life
follow with ceaseless healing
against the silhouette
of dark despair,
as the pain soars acute
to hold my heart
into its deeper folds.
Each time my conscience
unfolds for me
a radiating inner scape
to evade the bolts and brunt
of emotional breakdowns
on the heels of
temporal, transient feelings.
My thoughts weave
highly heaving wreaths now
of soulful words
in an insightful reverie
I am cosily lulled thereafter
into even more soothing cocoon, primordially built up inside.
