May 13, 2009
By Anamika Ratri BRONZE, Prairie Village, Kansas
Anamika Ratri BRONZE, Prairie Village, Kansas
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The falling rain soaks into the sand of the withering desert
The seed conceives life as it firmly takes root

The blossoming flower is named the flower of love
It knows the solitude of being on the ground

All that is buried, the lost heart, the tender pain, and tears from loving
The true meaning of isolation is brought upon with pain and affection

In a time when not words, but emotions speak
The need for one another, that was the origin of love

Breathing deeply again and again
Still, the senses are left unsatisfied

This hopeless reality rips away their hands, as if it was a sin

The red-stained spear stabs into the earth
As if a lesson, it marks the body

Man cannot live alone, and for that they search for another
It all began when words were created

I don’t want anything
I hurt because of love

Once you spit those words, just look, you’re already begging

The author's comments:
You're technically begging if you're in love~!

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