Bleeding Heart Poem by Nigel Chinwadzimba

In the depths of a soul, a tale to impart,
Lies a wounded spirit, a bleeding heart.
Its crimson rivers flow, a somber art,
Whispering secrets that tear worlds apart.

Within this fragile vessel, love once thrived,
Like petals of roses, so vibrant, alive.
But life's bitter winds blew, and shadows arrived,
Leaving scars unseen, pain deeply contrived.

Each beat echoes sorrow, a mournful cry,
A symphony of anguish, with no reply.
The bleeding heart weeps, tears stain the sky,
Drowning in memories that refuse to die.

It longs for solace, a healing embrace,
To mend the fragments, find a tranquil space.
But wounds run deep, an eternal chase,
And hope's frail flicker fades without a trace.

Yet through the darkness, a glimmer appears,
A gentle touch, a love that perseveres.
With tender hands, it tends to the fears,
Embracing the brokenness, wiping the tears.

A bleeding heart finds solace in embrace,
Love's balm, an elixir, a saving grace.
Though scars may linger, in time they erase,
Revealing a strength that pain can't deface.

So let the rivers of crimson bleed and flow,
For within the heart's wounds, resilience will grow.
From shattered fragments, a spirit will glow,
A testament of courage, a story to bestow.

In the tapestry of life, where sorrows reside,
A bleeding heart beats, refusing to hide.
For in its depths, compassion resides,
And through its wounds, love's essence resides.