My first magazine savage_wind_final__3 | Page 13

S AVA G E W I N D WORDS Words pile up Stale flowers that have turned to stone Stale flowers that have turned to stone Mad desir e on an old man’s face Mad whispers of falling fountain Untamed passion Owl’s laughter echoing in an empty room The flowers lay crushed at her feet The flowers lay crushed at her feet Passions were tears Dripped like warm blood Lost in your shadow… At the distance, lilac in the loneliness Haunted moon lay wounded Swirling amidst the ruins of words... 13