The crow flies
People die
Souls are lost
Tears dry
Love fades
Blood stops dripping
The sun sets
Flowers turn to dust
People turn to stone
The crow freezes And life ..........

"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

I've been trying to write this poem for days,
I pick up the pen and it just feels
lifeless ...
unlike what lives inside my heart.
so
I sing soft whispers to the wind
hoping it would take me to you..
 
 
●
 
My head used to spin
trying to figure out my purpose,
why I'm here,
where I belong;
asking questions to gods
 
●
 
 I never believed in soul mates,
 now you have me seeing
things I never knew existed:
 
Paradise
in your eyes,
home
in your arms.
You gave me the inner peace I've been struggling to find,
I guess this is what it means
to know life in every breath.
●
 
So tell me do you hear it too,
how our hearts beat as if one...
because you have this poet stuttering,
almost speechless,
breaking down with joy,
and every single tear
is a word I don't know how to say.