Nice Unfairness

Standing at the door of dark
My wild unrest mind speaks utterly,
About the chilled air
That rhyme upon your skin
And consign the fragranceto me.


Squeezing the corner of my heart
I shake my pain
To unite in grief clasp love
And crystallise my words
On  board of life.


Tightening the grip
On the rope of life,
I close my eyes that too forbid
to see red in claws and
weightless trembling feet.


Keeping in breathing I struggle,
The roots of the tree of love
Are wrapped around my waist.
I choke inside to air.
The pain in my chest burn
All thoughts to reunite.


Infusing  my wild
and wandering world
I quest to address the Kind of love
I've gained from you.
How will I define the nice Unfairness?