With conscious aspect of mind,
i can feel with my glass heart,
invisible to your crystal eyes,
and when your thin lips,
slip on the skin,
with prides of being a simple,
the intricate d question,
scrambles to the brain.
the mirror tells false,
features to myself,
being with tortures,
and dragged,
and bruised,
on thorns,
i scream once more,
in some nightmare.
Rafique Farooqi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/once-more-33/
