wound
rubescent nostalgia
which dark waters am I treading,
with this hallowed crimson heart?
following the whispers in the scattered wind,
uttering prayer from my quivering lips
how will I speak of this enchanting tale,
whose splendour lies hidden in its roots?
of love unspoken, songs unheard and melody untouched
planting these silent kisses,
you play with my mind;
with your endearing invisible touch,
you comfort my most aching parts
your burning memory ignites a flame within,
and flowers begin to grow
from this forever bleeding wound