A wound on my hand.
A wound on my hand
An open part
Pulsating pain
Like a broken heart
A bleeding gate
By my own nail
Cutting down deep
Leaving a trail
Thus is the truth
To understand
The patterns of life
and the wound of a hand
For time it requires
With healing grace
To finally reach
Another's embrace
An open part
Pulsating pain
Like a broken heart
A bleeding gate
By my own nail
Cutting down deep
Leaving a trail
Thus is the truth
To understand
The patterns of life
and the wound of a hand
For time it requires
With healing grace
To finally reach
Another's embrace
Comments
Trackback