"The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth the forms of things unknown, the poet's pen turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name."
-William Shakespeare

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Blood and Tears

I once knew a lover, but now he's gone.
Bullet to the heart from a heart of stone.
It all spilled out in blood and tears.
Hurt turned to anger and anger to fears.
Fears became sorrow, and sorrow, despair.
It all became prison for a heart unaware.
But somewhere beneath it all was a rock,
A healer just waiting for broken heart's knock.
Bandages, medicine, a retempered sword.
To take back the love from the oncoming horde.
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