VIII

Hopeless days,
And sleepiness nights.
Shreds of a wandering spirit,
Nothing is more pleasing than to see,
A broken heart of the one I loved.

How can a heart not feel compassion?
I have known this dread,
And darkened feelings.
How can love not be mine?
A darkness of unknown sense.
Crippling the ones around me,
Who try to break my heart of 'evil'.

I am not hell,
I am not the fire in the pits,
For I am lost in a room with no doors,
No windows, with no way out.
How should a soul as yours
Be crushed under this frequent turmoil.
I want to love,
To feel a broken heart.
To know what it is to hold someone,
On a cold winter's night.