TORN: To Be or Not to Be?
By PinkyTune
Auburn leaves glide onto the grey boulder
Wind whispers over my shoulder.
Slumber resting upon
my heavy eyelids, donning fakeness.
My strong dam an obstruction,
to the shallow burning river;
obstruction stronger in face of corrosion.
He is to blame
He the cause
Why he isolate me in the cell?
Yet smooth hard hands of his
caress massage my messy locks,
when I sad.
Him I detest
He a monster
Yet I come from him:
To be or not to be?
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