Time cannot heal,
It only conceals
Those wounds gaping green,
Remain as brands of pain.
Each scar tells a tale
Of love, valour, and betrayal.
My glass, ashen eyes
Reflect my spiteful soul,
Crack'd from side to side
Shards of my brittle heart,
Embedded in my flesh,
Shattered so easily.
But then I learnt long ago,
So do all things beautiful
YOU ARE READING
Still, a thousand leagues to go...
PoetryPoetry is the most constructive conduit to let out your feelings, My pain, anger, hurt and joy... Previously known as 'Verity'
