Once
A quiet confession about believing in love, losing faith, and the ache that never leaves.
Once,
I believed in love.
Twice,
I did believe in love.
Thirsty,
Rain from above.
I saw her walking,
Sweaty,
Yet beautiful as a dove.
Strangely,
I smelled her flavor wave.
Strongly,
It rooted through my heart
Do I become a slave?
Since my sins
Hover from above,
Do I still believe in love?
Sleep comes,
But she never does.
From the collection of sleepless hearts.-by layth
About the Creator
LUCCIAN LAYTH
L.LUCCIAN is a writer, poet and philosopher who delves into the unseen. He produces metaphysical contemplation that delineates the line between thinking and living. Inever write to tellsomethingaboutlife,but silences aremyway ofhearing it.
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