Apr 02 2013
Beating in my Hand
To live and breathe in solitude
unknowing of your heart
and hoping, once, I maybe could
feel what I felt, and start
to ease upon your sanity
with words and whispered prayers,
who clearly speak of vanities
I never knew were there.
And hidden in the darkest sea,
beneath the ocean floor,
there lies a heart unknown to me –
a heart I’m yearning for.
Must taste again the taste of pain;
and find unlikely treasure
that might not be of use today,
but might be mine forever.
An angel’s wings were only mine
your heart beneath the sand,
would speak of trouble and of time
while beating in my hand.
Relearn the art of solitude
(to not know of your heart).
For if I knew, pray tell, I could
once more tear it apart.
(3 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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