Wounded heart.


The word you said yesterday,
Made my heart heavy,
If I was the smoke of incense,
I would have dissolved into air.

Even the carved painting on the rock,
Has a time of disappearing.
Who has created your mind?
Which seems permanent.

Although the caged hope in me,
Fragile as dew,
I won’t give up,
From gaining your presence again.

Like water and a fish’s accompany,
I prayed a relationship for us.
But, in the bad luck of mine,
The only separation is written.

Entrusted a human, but,
A heart of stone replied.
The hope is no more,
To heal this wounded heart.



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