I've Won the Battle
My fingers are ready to type a love message
But I stop to listen to my still conscious mind
I’ve numbed myself to forget you yet you know I will always think of you
How loving, how tender, how kind
I’ve won the battle of love and yet
I am a wounded soldier
The winnings of this foul play are my tears
I fled the truth only to be struck by it from behind
I’ve won the battle of love and yet
I am a traitor and not a martyr
There are no winnings, but only ruins For which I am to blame
But I stop to listen to my still conscious mind
I’ve numbed myself to forget you yet you know I will always think of you
How loving, how tender, how kind
I’ve won the battle of love and yet
I am a wounded soldier
The winnings of this foul play are my tears
I fled the truth only to be struck by it from behind
I’ve won the battle of love and yet
I am a traitor and not a martyr
There are no winnings, but only ruins For which I am to blame
Labels: Poetry: Love
posted by Dudi @ 9:55 AM
2 Comments:
Maybe in another world which is perfect and pure
It might have been perfect
It might, but it would've been different
Of that am sure...
I won't ask you to take the memory
Your smile
or you tear
I want them all tell me that you were here
I miss you
nice poetry reply anony!
but maybe not to this poem but rather to my previous "Last Smile" one...thanx for sharing anyhow :)!
Post a Comment
<< Home