It is not those glassy cold eyes,
Reflecting the still moonlight
With equal coldness;
That scares me.
It’s not those numb hands
That holds the sharp blades
Brimming with drops of dark red
That scares me.
For cold eyes does me no trapping,
And numb hands, no affliction.
But it’s the emotional pair,
That twirls me in enchantment;
Taking me under its wing
That hurts me.
The warm hands
That brings me comfort,
Flinging away those troubles
That scars me.
For I care for them.
And when those eyes no more sparkle in my light,
And those hands that reach
But cannot hold,
It traps me like a rat in a metal trap,
Afflicting me like a thousand pins would,
Jabbing into my flesh.
And as I let go,
If memories bestow me as they would,
Let nightmares come forth, Hell, break loose,
And let all remember,
That it’s not hate that kills
But love.
what a lovely.......lovely piece...........i'm tangling above...........
Excellent poem Grace, you are right of course to a point when you say it is not hate that kills but love. I agree somewhat with that statement in terms of a relationship between two people which I feel is the depiction here in this lovely poem, however hate does kill as we all know when we look at past happenings in the world. I think then it's equal to not only assume but to state that both emotions can definitely kill. Thankyou for yet another wonderful poem Grace. --Melvina--
Grace, the last two lines of this poem says it all, That it’s not hate that kills But love. You are so right there. Great poem. Thanks for sharing it. David
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well crafted, with clever verses. I give it a 9+ as a starting point. (Hate can kill as well, you should have written the last line in a LESS absolute way, or in an indirect way) . But you have many prospects in Poetry, dear young poet Grace Tan