Thursday, 28 July 2016
Each time the writer fell in love ,
it was always the same.
Ecstasy ruling out all other emotions.
His broken heart mended itself ,
although the scars were visible.
Hidden but always there.
His muse provided him with warmth in the darkest of nights when he'd weave words of magic.
He never had an empty mind while wielding a pen , ready to ink his emotions.
Each time the writer broke his heart ,
it was always the same.
Melancholy ruling over all other emotions.
His heart scattered into pieces ,
the broken shards piercing his soul ,
ripping apart his very being.
He still stayed awake in the darkest of nights ,
his soul darker than the sky above.
He'd pour out his pain into paper ,
smudged with tears.
The pages stood silent witnesses
to the raging storm and the losing battle.
Muses came and muses went
but his heart stayed broken forever.
KK
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