March 27, 2023

My Dead Eyes of Love

By EPRobles

If many words birthed by my sorrowful soul
Become six feet under
My brilliant heart and mind and tongue
Become an orchestra of the living
My children, my woes, my heaven
How wonderfully you sing for me
And each word constructed
Is not syntax but blood glued
Within souls

My mouth is filled with sorrow
My heart weakened by minor
Keys of sadness
How I love you

In the dead dirt of sorrow
Digging sorrow for life
My eyes of love remain

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles
This entry was posted on Monday, March 27th, 2023 at 3:04 am and posted in Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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