The warmth of a kiss is not only felt on ones lips, but by the lonely beating heart searching for bliss. A ritual to often taken lightly; routine soon becomes taken for granted.
Time, our own worst enemy, our days leave us and lifes passion loses spark each time we pass each other by, a little part dies deep down inside.
Union sealed by our kiss holds our heart in a warm embrace protecting it from harm. Something you can't see in ones face, something you feel only in a kiss or their embrace.
When passion takes leave from ones heart, it is known as the cold kiss from the heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very true. Thank you for sharing.