Your mouth has lethal words
so you clear your throat.
You stand your ground because that place
is surely where it is to die.
You battle them with reason
because the argument was worth it.
You lay in bed
but you don't look at the stars
instead,
you close your eyes
and an image fill your mind.
You see a whole, new world
where you are supreme.
—
(Hear ye, hear ye: the bells have tolled!
Hear ye, hear ye, the voices in your head!)
A pressing courier is knocking on the door of your crushed heart!
Behold— the awful grace of wisdom!
Come to mend you!
And at the perfect hour of night.
Let them inside!)
YOU ARE READING
The Heart that I'm Hearing
Poetry"The Heart that I'm Hearing" is a collected assortment of poems written by Sanahara. This book attempts to express some of the many things that the hearts asks from each other. To want, to be among, to make and to unravel each other in the euphoric...
