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| Source: google.com |
Pretty petals,
Piercing prickles:
Cupid struck.
It was honey on my tongue;
My heart throbbed when I saw her face,
A Nightingale when she called my name.
Autumns absconded;
Winters wore;
Summers soared,
And I was gone.
Years tarried and left
Still she loved me
With what was left -
Pieces of a lonely, fractured heart.
Voiceless echoes in my head.
I loved her - I wanted to reach out.
But the battle within was bloody and fierce.
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