A Way To My House

In my heart, an ache
And my thoughts are bite me.
Why? Am I a skylark?
She sung ballad for me,
And blaze fired her eyes.
Wounded heart, to be feared
The moon melts like dew,
But the angel will not come.
This gloomy day knock well
Am going, from the dirty house.
Who get off me this shippen?
In the cage, my madly brother
In soundly roar his rusted chain.
In the kitchen, mother cook poorness
With lot of tear and fear

poem by CNKumar K P C Achary
Added by Poetry Lover
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