In the blood of the empty, I do seek a wholeness,
A self worth, that my meager Crimson cannot fill,
A hole within my chest,
where the organ of love should reside,
Instead resides an organ of no such thing,
Incessant blackness encases the wound,
With a shadow of disgust,
It dost beckon the blood of the whole,
Filling the empty shadow of my heart.
A great poem. Really like it. A good write about not loving, or been scared to love. Take a look at my poem called, let me love somebody, Its my take on having an empty heart.
what is there to say when a poem carries more than it takes to read.
A well written poem.good choice of words and clearly brought out meaning.keep it up.
wow thinking beyond yo age nice poem i rily love this...well done
I love the title of this one, interesting oxymoron. Beautiful content behind an amazing title. Great work.
Lovely poem, lovely comments, as well... I saw a picture of seeking the one to fill the hole caused by heartache. Someone to bring peacefulness and wholesomeness. Then again, it might mean something totally different. Eitherway, it is a great poem!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the search for wholeness brings about wholeness, in slow painful seasons turning...time will be your friend! good poem!