When a Heart in Love gets Broken, it's pieces get scattered Around. Tears keep falling Drop by Drop, without a Word or Sound. Diamonds are stones that Sparkle, When U polish them all the More. A Broken Heart becomes a bit Stronger, When Love touches their Feet or Shore. Black loves, the Sound of Silence. White shines, when it is Night. A Heart that's Broken has Memories. But their Love, is never in Sight. As Moonlight shines on their windowsill, A Broken Heart is brought back to Life. But then old Memories, begin to creep in and Dreams, are stabbed by a Knife.
O the One brighter than the brightest star! O the One who talked to the moon above! O the One whose presence bloomed all the flowers! O the Beaut One! O the Belovently Beloved One! O, Mustafa! You are the source of sparkle for our illuminating universe. Your luminosity left the shimmering sea overjoyed. Your benignity softened the hearts of hard-hearted. Your nobility had left me breathless. For how can I describe the indescribable?
I look in the mirror as i play my shoulder with a blade... like a violin. between the blade, I pretend it to be a bow, and the snow blizzard coming my way. I see her, my sparkle. she so dazzle herself into my life, as another. I put the bow down; the violin heals. the sun comes out, so tragically, she disappears. and once again, alone, playing my shoulder like a violin, with the instant regret. I shall do it again, waiting yet to seek for another storm to come in.
Done, ends stitched in a seam—set to be worn over yourself. A stain so bright, you sparkle. Too far forward to flip. The sipper, the straw, the soda. Bleeding ink every blink, but still brimming. Ripped apart like a rainbow. A love letter to life still in the works.
So dead you’re divine. Only visible in the love-light. Weird as a plant that bites the bully, as a phlox sprouting through sand. Wingless like wind, fin-less like a fluid. Lost but listening to your own heart. Found.
Is romantic love a myth? a gift staring at me from shop windows and shopping carts life has given birth to art but is art another way to lie inside the tears I cry they sparkle like diamond dust in the sun poetic lies go around they sparkle for everyone...