A sculpture of perfection made by christ
blunt my be the pen......
But the heart draws it's dream bleeding,
bleed by an ink in blue
Is it possible the mind may not know?
All i want is everything of nothing
peace depart like a white dove
.......lost in transition............
i cuddle with my sorrow,
give me yours as well i will borrow.
INSANE is the proper word
my soul goes cold with no body of warmth.
I can't explain what words or letters used here
But all i can picture is a failed heart.
My Review
Would you like to review this Poem? Login | Register
When there's no peace in the heart,
when emptiness is all that you feel
when sorrow is what's all from the start
that's when the poor heart really fail...
Yes, you are soooo right. The heart is the seat of the soul.
"A sculpture of perfection made by Christ"---so powerful as you commit this fact to words.
"I cuddle with my sorrow". You have penned well the emotions of the soul my friend.
"I can't explain what words or letter used here, But all I can picture is a failed heart.
A wonderful title backed up by a wonderful climax.