Withered broken heart.

Sad tortured eyes.

There is no running away from you.

Ain't no turning back.

No lyrics to fit your sad dance.

Just some old scaly memories,

That stays glued on your glassy withered heart.

Your eyes is music enough to your punctured soul.

There is no one to dance this love sick dance with you.

Just you, maybe your hands, your knuckles and nose that may bleed from time to time

There is no east, no west, no north, no south,

But you are sure there is a center, a lost center.

Where your scaly heart meets with your watery blind soul.

You know nothing maybe able to take the pain away.

Yet you do not accept that you are dead...

You are the lonely lost soldier on a non existent battlefield with a million soldiers of illusion.

Even if your tears form prints of indescribable pain on earth, on the sky or wherever you find yourself...

You are not heard.

You are still alone. . .

Your heart is a lonely island...

Maybe no one would ever find it.

You, the sad frog.

This is a damaged lyrics bestowed unto your weeping heart, lost to the hot sands of love.

Keep bleeding...

Stop beating.

Sad frog.

Yours in love...

Froggy.

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Image Source: Pixabay

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My pen Bleeds!