The heart is loud like thunder in the rain,
Beating through joy, through love, through pain.
It trembles when memories refuse to fade,
And breaks quietly behind the smiles we made.
But the soul…
The soul is silent like the midnight sky,
Holding every tear we never let dry.
It carries wounds no eyes can ever see,
Yet still teaches the broken heart to believe.
The heart falls in love with fragile things,
With promises, touches, and golden rings.
But the soul searches deeper than desire,
For a flame that survives every fire.
Sometimes the heart wants to run away,
Tired of the battles it faces each day.
Yet the soul whispers softly in the dark,
“Even shattered stars still carry light in their spark.”
And when the world becomes cold and apart,
The soul becomes home for the tired heart.
For no matter how lost life may seem,
The soul keeps alive every forgotten dream.
So guard your heart with tenderness and care,
But feed your soul with hope and prayer.
Because beauty is not only what eyes can see—
It is the quiet war between who we are and who we dream to be.
6d ago
May 28, 2026 at 7:53 PM UTC
The heart is loud like thunder in the rain,
Beating through joy, through love, through pain.
It trembles when memories refuse to fade,
And breaks quietly behind the smiles we made.
But the soul…
The soul is silent like the midnight sky,
Holding every tear we never let dry.
It carries wounds no eyes can ever see,
Yet still teaches the broken heart to believe.
The heart falls in love with fragile things,
With promises, touches, and golden rings.
But the soul searches deeper than desire,
For a flame that survives every fire.
Sometimes the heart wants to run away,
Tired of the battles it faces each day.
Yet the soul whispers softly in the dark,
“Even shattered stars still carry light in their spark.”
And when the world becomes cold and apart,
The soul becomes home for the tired heart.
For no matter how lost life may seem,
The soul keeps alive every forgotten dream.
So guard your heart with tenderness and care,
But feed your soul with hope and prayer.
Because beauty is not only what eyes can see—
It is the quiet war between who we are and who we dream to be.