Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Riel Adriane Jul 2016
Driven inside the unwheeled heart
But pumps like it's never been.
Love is a piece of art,
Like poetry of a deviant.
Destined by fate
For narrow souls
Inside a box can ever locate
Between the edges ever known.
To the eyes we see
Two hearts meet
Inside the chest
Is our lungs to breathe
Memoir of souls deep
Is in the waves of the sea
Stars were built for us to dream
Promises were made for us to keep
Love was made to fail
For us to be keen
(So) in the future we know
What and whom to feel
So we can prevent failure
And forever be thankful
Solace will be in our venture
And forever be thankful
Hopes of a tranquil heart
"Love can never tear me apart"
And that statement went wrong
Until there was you who came along
Tore me like a piece of paper
Great fortitude can't even endure
Falling slowly like a feather
Like how city lights allure
Our eyes were made to see the difference around us
But only our heart can feel what's truly for us
We defy our beliefs about love
But they truly exist!
I thought we already had enough
But for love, we can't insist!
Maybe love was waiting for the time to come
Maybe you're not yet ready for time to come.
irinia Jul 2015
each tree is
a sound soft-spoke

to unwheeled sky
perhaps

or passing
cloud ― i would set

mind as
these trees: closeset &

filigree
like something once hubbed

& radial staked
out : taken root & grown past

its paring
having absorbed what heat

comes in to build a year-by-
year body

encompassing body: mind so
still in its s-

hell as to
be

detectable
barely till my

tomb stone
deep in upward shadow

leaps upon
me like a child around my neck

Mario Petrucci from *i tulips

— The End —