A beautiful cry you possess,
Your weeps enchanting,
Your sobs mesmerising .
A phenomenon to uphold one precious tear at a time,
You may call this adoration mad,
But she is a gift,she is mine.
Your sorrows unlock an angelic melody As if the heavens spoke its secrets into your chords.
It's a graceful sight to see you this way,
Yes,what I speak of shouldn't make any sense .
My thoughts are savage but with each feeling I mean it
You crying is like the art of poetry ,
And as art it shouldn't be nice,
But must shake your very core ,to make you feel something.
This is why I feel you,
I feel every crack that severs your heart and wounds your soul.
This is why I love to kiss the dear crystals from your orbs,
And reminisce the mineral taste it leaves on my lips.
Isn't this magical?
Indeed my insanity must admit,
A beautiful cry you posses!
YOU ARE READING
Hiraeth
PoetryA man of distress, With eyes denied of sleep at night. Yet his mind wanders dreaming in the day. Such a cycle driven by a deep longing, a hunger, and love for a woman. Hence, a compilation of his persistent and intrusive thoughts of her... His Hira...
