Selling fire to souls
setting them ablaze like burning cotton
Warming cold fingers in the heat—
in the sorrow-soaked heat.
Coins clattering
black as night,
as lambs with fangs spring to bite
oh, poor soul, let down and torn
gathering crushed hope,
it’s gone, it’s gone!
Copyrights © Senali Perera 2016 (7:50PM)
(A poem woven around a life experience on a day when my Dad and I ran into some cheating men and had our hopes crushed. But it did not demolish our resolve. I just felt sorry for Dad. Hence, the poem.)
Blood and Sunrays 