MORNING

The sun presented herself naked
with no rays on

fixing her face gradually
fixating her smile on me

.a poor soul pouring  thoughts in every think.

whence comes my help?
will i chance on a smile
if i be chanced to approach one?

my bed holds me back from waking
and the doors of  my brains ajar 

with every thought brewed 
ending with a tangy taste.

the careless drives of nights 
always ends each morning in a fatal demise 
every morning is a funeral.
---Fampah Coyish---