What shall I write

What shall I write
the hand asked the heart
for did it want to express
the troubles of the heart.

But the heart remained silent
as there was no way
to transform what was felt
into lines of ink just yet.

These sudden emotions
rumbled like thunderstorms above stormy waters,
untamable and unpredictable,
scarily dark and deeply sad,
but also so authentically fragile, beautiful and true (at least I thought).

It would take some time
for them to evolve into something the brain,
and maybe world, would be able to grasp.
Until then no words or letters could express
or live up to what was felt
so deep down inside.

 

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