It’s hopeless spring uproot in my heart,
Each morning, when I see her bright face,
Knowing fears covering each painful essence
Making them dance in a music lost world.
Love; must say, a strange breaking point,
Carving memories of a woman I know barely.
Each morning, when I see her bright face
My heart throws the pains away to breathe
Air of a lively world where I’m the dead,
Craving a touch to my tormented soul.
Feelings; must say, the sick and the cure,
Blended like a Beethoven’s symphony
Playing with realities created in the dungeons,
Deathea, am I seeking love’s life
Over knowing I’m a helpless broken monster,
Who never sees a world beyond pain and joy?
I’m A Troubled Fellow | Poem