My Silent Agony

In this gloomy corner where

silence

reigns

and

darkness

fills the entire room with

melancholy.

I see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing!

But I can only hear a sound:

the beat of my precious wounded heart!

The aching sound of my

exhausted

being

reverberates

in my memoir,

making all of my

senses

function.

I see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing!

But I can only hear a sound:

the beat of my precious wounded heart!

My eyes absorb the light of

truth.

I can taste each bite of

reality

as my skin responds sensitively to the

rejection

of the wind.

I see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing!

But I can only hear a sound:

the beat of my precious wounded heart!

My cold body becomes

numb,

but it

succumbs

to the overflowing heat of

emotions

I dare not speak—

I only hold back the

tears

before they can continuously roll down to the sea of

grief.

I fear that the rain might

wash away

the

beautiful

painting on my face.

If so, no one will

recognize

my stars glow

because they will

hide

right away or

forever

disappear.

I see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing!

But I can only hear a sound:

the beat of my precious wounded heart!

The wind knows when my

heart

stops beating.

The sky tells when my lungs

quit

breathing.

While I sat here all

alone

trying to figure out one thing,

can I still

endure

pain while loving?

I see nothing, feel nothing, think of nothing!

But I can only hear a sound:

the beat of my precious wounded heart!

The heart that says there’s nothing more

will find it hard to open a new door.

Yet if it’s

heaven’s will

to grant a boon,

the heart will provide a room of

happiness,

for a

longing soul

that once was lost,

and

for a

home

that one has finally sought.