Ink-stained, a writer's soul, I bear my heart,
On parchment's canvas, every emotion bled,
With every word, a piece of me departs,
A symphony of feelings, thoughtfully spread.
For you, I stand prepared to take the fall,
But what if, like a bird, you leave, instead?
My fragile heart, destiny's winds heed a distant call,
Balancing on the edge of darkest night.
Upon the pages, blood for you I'd trace,
My tears, unbidden, blurred those heartfelt lines,
My voice silenced, love's offering erased,
A wordless ache within my spirit twines.
A writer's tears may cleanse the wounds so deep,
Yet love's imprint in silence, I shall keep.
YOU ARE READING
Her Volume ~ One
RomanceYou write poems, right? Ah, yes Every single day? I do, please For whom ? The girl knows But what if she doesn't read? She's reading. Aren't you? It might be just a bunch of poems to others, but it's a story to you, my 32 ❤️ Title: "Her Volume ~ One...
