Last Yearning


Again I want to be powerless like a mute bird
Want to be lost in abysmal
A try to acclimate with negative accolade
Ebb the happiness with a subtle question
All the infatuation were hackneyed
All the hatred were trite
In the garden with one bisexual rose
That only can be seen, can’t be touched
Urge for a neo, saternine saturation prevails
Urge for a rescue, philosophy provides a bar
Exactly an enormous gauche’s felt
I, at last
Myself, at last
Fluting the senseless symphony
My swan song, contains my last beat drop
Trying it again
Surrounded and surrendered against the damp wall
Playing last and fore-mostly
Wearing the garland of sorrow
Once it for all.

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