As the clock strikes 12

By Jumana Fakhar

As the clock strikes 12,

I feel your poisoned thoughts

eat me alive.

For my bottled love

unlocks its wings

leaving me short of breath.

Collecting pieces

of those broken statues,

my heart shatters.

For your magical whispers

still echo in my haunted castle

No matter,

How many sages I burn

Your memories still persist.

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