The Freedom of a Tree

Escrito por Hiba Khan

Can you hear me sobbing at night?
When everything's quiet, I turn to you
I beg, but do you listen?
Oh, how I wish you would

Cold, everything's cold in your heart
Just like a withering flower losing life
When you lift your sword and cut through my vein
May I ask, what do you gain?

In your cruel hands I know I'm not free
But who would care about the woes of a tree?
Alas, you won't sear the chains
So use me until every part of me is maimed.

Más historias de Hiba Khan

  • The Freedom of a Tree Hiba Khan
  • Sin comentarios

    Dejar un comentario