Residing at depth so deep,
Encapsulated by madness,
A heart once broken heals itself.
Darkness itself has no meaning
There, where light has never been seen,
The place that hearts must go to heal.
The infinite is closer than
The distance away from sorrow
A heart must travel to be healed.
A place no love can penetrate,
Where loneliness is redundant,
Broken hearts become whole again.
In that beyond, the seconds tick,
As time, ever the master waits.
Time, immanent time, heals the heart.
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Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
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