The rested heart

She was beauty
In its most honest form
Singing Mozart in the kitchen
Reading Kafka on the shore

The light she held inside her
Burned brighter than a flame
It set fire to my tindersticks
It smoked out all my pain

With liquid gold inside my blood
The passions all cry out
Her soft heart in my rough hand
Lay rest to all my doubt

Through all the dust around my heart
She carved a path of stone
Now as i lay my full head down
I know I’m not alone

This entry was posted in Poetry.

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