Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Untitled

It breaks the fabric of the soul,
Each time she smiles and says nothing at all.

Somewhat it tears a rift
Right through the crippled heart.
Knowing love can move mountains
Yet only keeps the souls apart.

The mind leaks worry
Like a broken glass of wine,
Nursing spirals of panic
Creeping liquidly beneath the spine.

A desperate chaotic gesture
To sommersault into this flood
Submerged solemnly into oblivion
Into a cauldron heart of boiling blood.

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