Is it external factors Halting more chapters? Or an innate absence of appeal? Collapsing love once real… Empty sorrow Of endless empty tomorrows Piercing heart is all I feel
Will you follow? Will you allow yourself love? Would you take my hand and stand? Stand with me, hand in hand Walk towards uncertainty Lend me your trust As I lend you mine Entrust me with your heart For I will cherish as my own It is a risk I know I plead you not fear For I’ll give you my heart And then you’ll know
Over a field laid barren, on the wind came your call; high above our hands touching, the sun watching us fall. It’s witness to our dance, our broken heart’s choir; it gives us a taste of the flames for our fire.
I do not need a therapist— Poetry is all I need. Since it is my unpaid therapist; Where the world's perspective of me is the contentment of my experience Hence, Hello Poetry is my freedom wall, so to speak.