Wounded Heart

Ripped off heartstrings,

like the deviations

in their own threats.

..

poorness and emptiness in my blood,

yes my heart is not working where it’s usually working for;

to keep me alive,

instead my heart is beating, so convulsively

and it’s losing her breath because of the overmastering painful thrive.

Do you see my tears streaming in a collection for those frightful waterfalls?

Do you hear that one kind of prayer,

whom inside of me calls;

it also screams for you..

..

Please,

I don’t want you to think about what happened,

just let it fly away.

Please,

don’t worry about it,

your pain; I fought for it it;

that kind of horrible fray,

from the past…

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