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Where is it that I see myself.
I, the rope in a tug of war,
The loser pulls at my arm to
Pull me closer- begging, pleading.
The victor stands still,
Knowing well his grounds undefeated.
I stand numb,
Tears no longer fall on dusty ground.
My heart no longer moves for kings
Or peasants –all alike now.
Just a defeated soul that lingers into
Space unknown.
I need to read a poem that will move
My heart and heal my soul.
I need to be held for a bit longer than ever.
I need to be told that life will be bearable
From now on.
Remedy my heart,
Be gentle with my soul.
Do not scold me or show frustration,
Carry my heart with great care,
It’s beyond fragile.
Whoever you are,
Love me purely so that I may heal
Without allowing me to forget his love.
Love me tenderly, so he’d
Always be with me,
He is my only perfection.
Tell him to stay in my heart,
Tell him he’ll always be my true home,
But ask him to leave now,
Cause all I am is a reminder of his pain.
All I am is the cause of his misery,
And all I am is his one true love.
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"Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding" Khalil Gibran, The Prophet
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Escaped Face
