Sunday, August 29, 2010

Mourning Of A Cold And Empty Heart

I start every morning,
with songs unending

The crying heart calls for comfort,
and the anguish kills without effort

She's still in my mind,
trying to connect and bind

Is this situation my catalyst,
or it is another abyss

I ask my peers to help me,
but neither of them understand it

For the fourth time I loved,
in the fourth time I sobbed

Because unlike the three,
she's the perfect one for me

She preferred stronger ones,
weakness is her dislikes

So I ask for strength for this silent suffering,
I will keep doing a song unending

For she opened this cold and empty heart,
and she also closed with a bitter part

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