Pens and Pages

Feed my soul, Cover my skin, Save me from the grave I dug for myself. The dark deep pit, It's labyrinthine corridors, My own serpentine silhouette, Slithers around my neck. I crave for a single breath. Air, please. Feed my body, Its desires are strange. Feed my soul And cover my skin. Dirt, everywhere. Is thy soul too stale? Mercy, please. Save me from the wounds Of falling from paradise. Cover my naked skin. Save me from the grave In the pits of inferno, The grave I dug for myself.

From the last two days I've seen no night, No darkness, no dusk, no rains, no blight. My orchard's flowers seem to shine bright. Birds chirp around and butterflies alight. Grandmother's woven the sweater, at last, of Brother's embroidered shirt's size. From the last two days I can hardly count The days of happiness I've lived in disguise. Summer ain't so hot nor have I seen Winter's chill. From the last two days, life doesn't seem so hard. No, don't bring me the stars from the sky, I'm planting sunshine in my backyard.