Weary and tormented with nothing left to give,
her tears fell on the letter that she neatly folded;
and in that cold room she sat listlessly
closing her eyes after the tears dried,
and she fell asleep for a little while,
awakening to the same thing that for so long she had been fighting;
and to get up, she placed her hand on a worn nightstand,
revealing the many scars on her skin under dim lighting.
And the tears came again, from tired eyes
that were closed so many times in endless praying.
In her frailty, she held onto an unstable cold railing,
in a torn nightgown, walking down the steps to the kitchen;
in tears, she started off with faint words in her whispering—
but then she kept screaming,
all I want to do is live again.
Tag: Feelings
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Lonnie Liston Smith – A Garden of Peace
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A beautiful whisper
A seductive touch
A passionate gaze
Then midnight rush.
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The shattered pieces of me remain behind and unswept,
Still strewn on the floor where my eyes first wept.
I awake, still broken, wanting to be whole again,
Hoping that my soul will finally mend.
The sorrow of my heart seems to never end.
I keep falling — but not in love again;
I just keep falling,
Like raindrops
Without end. -
Cold winds blow through leaves
In the fields where they were hanged,
And innocent blood was shed on trees;
At night, hear the restless souls scream
For blood and vengeance in their dreams. -
She was my reason to breathe,
My red rose in a sea of dead leaves.
It is the heart that breaks
And the soul that grieves,
When subtle betrayal you can’t see.
Still, sometimes I hold onto her in my dreams,
And tell myself to just breathe,
Retracing her steps
In the moments right before she left.
I let go of the anger that I kept —
Sitting in the place that she slept,
It was after she walked out, that I wept.Sade – I Never Thought I’d See the Day
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Use my heart as a blank canvas
and let love guide your hands
to paint beautiful pictures.
After you finish, write your name
indelibly on me, so the world
will know that I am yours.
I am not a perfect canvas,
for I am flawed,
yet your loving brushes
have already filled me
with gorgeous backdrops
and vibrant colors;
You take your time,
and everyday, you paint a little more
in passionate patience.
Your devotion is something to behold;
There is beauty in the strokes
of your wrists alone.
After you exhibit me, take me home;
Hold me close to you,
and make me your own.
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In weeping and torment love is the only reprieve;
The heart is heavy with sorrow,
But a simple kiss allows the soul to breath.
If only for a few minutes there is beautiful stillness,
Wrapped in sweet caress.
In a passionate kiss there falls a calmness,
That words could never express.
It is the cure for unending agony and loneliness.
Love, it is the medicine that overcomes deep sadness
And floods warm light into cold perpetual darkness.
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The compositions of my life are arranged in three passionate movements.
The orchestra plays beautifully; the lead violinist weeps with tears,
Falling on the varnished wood and the strings of his instrument.
After the performance, in stillness the crowd sits,
And after a long pause, they stand and clap to break their silence.
Heaven’s Poet Laureate writes sonnets that tell of agony, love, and death;
And of how he turned his face and wept when she took her last breath.
It was three words she spoke before she left,
And a child went home and stood in the room where she slept,
To catch her aura, and to take a part of her to place in his heart,
Where until this day it is protected and kept.
The orchestra plays again; the first movement — a sonata.
At the end, the lead violinist bows with tears
And blows a kiss as he remembers her. -
True love seemed so close within reach,
Yet her eyes were so distant.
Many secrets were shared,
And many promises were given;
But after the intimate whispers and beautiful letters,
Tears blew in the wind,
Because love departed from the heart
Leaving only its remnants.
Intimate Compositions 