My soul yearns for something more, <br />Specifically what, I cannot tell. <br />It whispers something in my ear, <br />A silent prayer, a curse, a spell. <br /> <br />Inside I want to scream it out, <br />The spell though, my mouth controls. <br />The natural curse on the broken hearted, <br />Simple communication from it withholds. <br /> <br />My spirit is as a dried up lake, <br />Each emotion getting weaker by the minute. <br />My tears, as solid rocks they fall, <br />They know not real from gimmick. <br /> <br />How much sorrow can one bare? <br />How much turmoil and travail? <br />The broken heart has it’s curse to handle, <br />Distraction though, now prevails. <br /> <br />Copyright © Christian Eliab Ratnam 2008 <br />ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /><br />Christian Eliab Ratnam<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-broken-heart-5/
