Life had been a muddle, a labyrinth from which I thought I could never get out of; but it was poetry that made me realize that this labyrinth was indeed worthy of being lost in.
Poetry has taught me to find words for my thoughts. The thoughts that I...
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As I pierce myself into pieces, What all they witness is beauty. The beauty of sacrifice and kindness, The sacrifice of self loyalty.
Pretty words are the prezzies they hand me For what all I gave away is yet hidden beneath the word 'charity' I wish if they could ever lend me a desire to hear So that to confess, I would never fear 'I ain't the Bleeding Heart Amidst your beautiful garth, For I don't bloom but shatter brutally To bring to you, what you think is beauty.'
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Bleeding heart: Here, is referred to a flower, that blooms in Siberia, China, Korea and Japan (pictured above).
