A Poem by $amala

White Gardenia petals bow down on the compound

Are whispering your voices

Although some lost laughs, echoes sometimes

Reflects me the most wanted keys


Miles away from the whiten valleys

Smells the advent of your eyes

Chimneys are quivering, spelling something lame

Those bells in the boxes wore dusty like widowed


Seems to be more bright like the reverie I’ve seen at the noon

It barely moves his hand when I’m observing cuckoo on the top

As I heard the Siren horn

Dark dogs will depart from the back doors


But it still smells so dusty no noisy at all

Nevertheless when it embarks to be snowy

Bell rings for a new dawn





© 2016 $amala

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Added on December 24, 2016
Last Updated on December 24, 2016



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