Saturday, May 21, 2016

Canvas of Heavens

In an empty room, nakedness on walls
I stand staring out of the sky and the doors
No sun’s in sight
To brighten the night

By closing the eyes I see not nothing but a figure
Drawn on a canvas of heavens I picture
Given are praises
Risen aren't praises

Walking alone through the time and the past
I and my mind are not aware of what happened at last
Missed is sleeping
Felt is another thing

I keep myself on track of life I’m not living
Like a painter with painting, I am with writing
Felt is something
Known is nothing

I do not write in my journal or about my hobbies
Instead on walls with no clothes on their bodies
But I love to write
What I cannot split

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