Reality no. 2: The Wounds

Reap the outcome of the acts

As voice reverberates from the past

still it is a wound, a leprosy of life

that cannot be disregard

friends that host the supper

a lover who break the walls

of this tight lock heart

a kindle of the shallow start

evening bliss and the sorrowful luminescence

a still dying vein that neither carries

life into the living, eyes are just a ponderer

of the past that bewitched the enchanted moment

drape me now with a sarcastic love

time and space are not mine

this time, the wounds; bleed

as the eyes renewed its vision

wipe those blurry tears away

Reap the acts again!

there is no other time to regain

the spirit that can always hold the present

for the soul only speaks of the past

when that time and space were on his arms...