Wounds that bleeds nomore,
Painless the flesh;
Succumbed the spirit,
Awaiting to be awakened.
Soul moves hardly,
Like-
a dry leaf waiting,
For the fall of the dew.
And I saw the dew drops
Falling smiling
On the leaf of the life
Through the window of hopes…
lovita j r morang
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/painless-6/
