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Words upon unhearing ears do fall when love is lost.

Colour's bright allure on sightless eyes invites no inspiration to surrender the loveless grey.

Comfort's touch is cold where hands once warmed flesh upon a lovers breast and in passion's fire moulded hearts.

In dreams do lips, unmoved by poetry or song, taste again the sweetened breath,

And in dreaming, wearied souls repose.
©2006-2009 ~brattiefly
:iconbrattiefly:

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A poem I wrote about how one feels when we lose a love.

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March 4, 2006
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