Heaven Scent.
The stench of ill,
the loss of will,
two hearts
that did not blend.
In light of
This, a wiff of bliss
I dread
my truest friend.
'round that foul scent,
my heart was bent-
I can not let you in.
For fear you smell,
that place called Hell
I carry deep within.
the loss of will,
two hearts
that did not blend.
In light of
This, a wiff of bliss
I dread
my truest friend.
'round that foul scent,
my heart was bent-
I can not let you in.
For fear you smell,
that place called Hell
I carry deep within.
posted by kimmerker at 8:39 AM
5 Comments:
awesome! I can relate to this a LOT!
ok .. i'm sorry if this was a personal outpouring.. which does not appreciate friendly-but-not-so-known bloggers commenting on it, but it has reallly inspired me..
here's my attempt at a reply:
Your fear of hell,
your unbending will,
will keep the truest out.
The light of bliss,
just a whiff of this
can turn ur heart about.
There is no hell
in the truest sense,
each will of His divine,
Each dread shall blend
into the light
each sour grape to sweet wine.
.. i think bungled the last line i always do..
loved this poem.. its like a powerful emotion in my past resurrected in simple words..
i love your reply!!!!
i sent it to a friend via email.
thank you.
i wish i wrote like this!
i liked both of them, the reply as well.
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