ُSecrecy
Secrecy flows through you,
a different kind of blood.
You can think of nothing else.
Once you have it, you want more.
What power it gives you!
Power of knowing without being known,
power of the stone door,
power of the iron veil,
power of the crushed fingers,
power of the drowned bones,
crying out from the bottom of the well.
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فروردین ۲۸م, ۱۳۸۶ | ۰۹:۰۸
Beautiful poem, thanks for sharing
فروردین ۲۸م, ۱۳۸۶ | ۱۴:۵۳
zire diplom harf bezan in chiza ye kam sangineh!hehe