Looking through the window
There is a broken heart
Cracked right down the center
Like broken fine china,
But bound tightly back together
With chromed barbed wire
Sitting high like a hero
On a rose cutting pyre
No tear dropp rain clouds
To save it from this ire
No fantasy or passion
To fuel this fire,
But another angry word,
Another careless spark
And soon the flames are chanting,
Another! Another!
Another sacrifice!
Soon the blood like petals
Fall from the wounds
To kiss the thorny flames
That irradiates like happiness
A reflection from the chrome,
And the wounds are healed
When the flames finally reveal
its' darkness by their light.
No rescuing tear dropp clouds,
No resounding remembrance hymns,
Just battle fields and hedges
And someone pruning roses
and piling up the stems.
Oh my! Danny this is just headshakingly gorgeous. As I read aloud, my poetic voice sang to a beautiful throng.. Your descriptions are impeccable and a broken heart bound by barbed wire, just perfect... My favourite line as there is connection yet a severing line is (Just battle fields and hedges) sigh! ! A gorgeous piece of writing. Thanks Karen (didn't seem to load first time grrr.. Luckily I've learnt to save, if it appears twice I'm sorry)
Oh my! Danny this is just headshakingly gorgeous. As I read aloud, my poetic voice sang to a beautiful throng.. Your descriptions are impeccable and a broken heart bound by barbed wire, just perfect... My favourite line as there is connection yet a severing line is (Just battle fields and hedges) sigh! ! A gorgeous piece of writing. Thanks Karen
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poor, poor tortured heart, cruelly taunted, cut and bleeding teardrops of pain dripping on white parchment.