Wednesday 30 March 2011

Poetry from the needle of heart

The heart is a piece of meat without your love
The love is the soothing of a burning sorrow
The sorrow is a piece of trial without you is a loss
The loss is no better than death
The death is the heart turning to piece of a meat

O beloved without your love heart is a piece of a meat

The fragrance of the heart
Is the smell of your love
The purity of the heart
Is the smell of your love

O beloved without your love heart is a piece of meat

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