Slow Down.

The souls got heat, set a fire to this heart, it's gunna be hard.
And the tongue it speaks of sadness and pain, unwanted shame.
Realize what's in these hands, a world to discover, freedom from these covers.
And these heavy eyes keep me from sleep, but I'm no longer feeling weak.
Slow it down, slow down.
I'd give anything to feel this free, paint my masterpiece. 
A void I can't fill, it's breaking me in and I bleed from within.
If I could get out I would, can't help but feel misunderstood. 
The souls got heat, set a fire to this heart, it's gunna be hard.
Slow it down, slow down.

Reviews

[Bard Constantine]

Very much like the frustration I feel sometimes at the void between thoughts and the desperate attempt to properly translate them with words...

From a technical viewpoint, I'd take another look at that first line. Not only does 'hard' not truly rhyme with 'heart', the words are similar enough to almost make the line redundant, weakening the impact. Otherwise, a solid poem that ripples with meaning. Keep it up...

[Ed Hart]

you know, that void is just a misunderstanding, a fence made of lies...the truth is in that picture, and besides that, there is no other truth...thank you for sharing your heart