I sit by the lake of solitude ,
They remind of home , the one I burnt long ago .
I hear the soft crackling sound of the dried leaves as the wind caress them .
A strange feeling of loneliness seeps slowly into my heart ,
Making my soul ache with gentle pain .
I am a lone poet of an abandoned castle .
I hear stories of aftermath of glimpses as I pass by .
I've thousands of stories , well more like mess of words stringed together trying to form an enchanting wreath , to tell but to whom ?
For I've realized I'm unfit for any human relation .
A silence like deep ocean water wrap its arms around me ,
And I fall into an abyss .
My shallow heartbeat is the only sound that is reaching my ear .
I'm afraid that I've nothing to fear .
The words stuck in my throat chokes my heart and I cough blood .
My ebendrot blood is slowing mixing with the blue of the sea , the yellow of sunset , the green of nature .
It reminds me that's how grief slowly forms medly acceptance ,
Thus is life , and by each passing day I'm bidding it farewell .
For Sir I've mastered the art of clairvoyance.
-Sitara
Finally my writer's block ended .
YOU ARE READING
A Piece Of My Heart
PoetryI find dark things beautiful . I exist in thousands of agonies. If chaos was a work of art , then my heart would be a masterpiece. And when nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you...
