But before my heart has a chance to stop,
I would like to sell my heart to the greased palms of these shops.
Because the arrow that they have plucked from the bow,
has made my heart only into a circus; a show.
And I would like to take back from them, another heart,
which would, for me, not betray my breathless part.
And I would like it to run away from her vision,
which divides me; which tears me with much precision.
For I know my love for her will keep lasting,
for I know this cursed favor will never stop passing.
And before I succumb into this blissful serenity,
lead me out of this venomous hazard of insanity.
YOU ARE READING
Poesy of Eloquence
Poetry❝ this tragedy is soaked with tears that dry the ink in my hands. ❞ ━ the poesy I've yearned to release ever since I taught myself to pick up the pen and write. ❝ for if the painting of my words be the garden upon the gate of heaven, glimpse them...
