The Diary Of Tears ( Ten )

Of light there comes no light

Bleeding me a blast of sight

Nor a cancer of outer shape

Wearing me the nap of night

And of morn, no birds to fly

Whistling songs for me to die

Hauled in the havoc of soils

Buried unseen of curious eye

And distinctly, no ears to hear

My humming words of pain and tear

Nor to display a joy distorted

I own no mirth to donate a cheer

And of the roads, no single mile

To map my path with a smile

Dotted with a dose of hope

Or lined with rest for a while

And of god, no bliss to fill

My sleepless sadness of yawning hell

Cushioned upon the back of harmony

Nor a virtue of grateful will

And of life, unlocks no meaning

Forming me a glimpse of seeming

Nor a guide to stride me onward

Or a fortune to gush me streaming

And of love there heads no master

Save this unmerciful disaster

Of hearts leaking a curse slow

Or rooted hurt growing faster

And in you I no longer dwell

A nectar flooding in deeper well

Bearing me onto no me

And the faded mark of farewell

( C ) Copyright 2013 ADEL ATTIEH