I cut my heart into several peaces
throughout my life
and one sliver
belongs to you.
It is impossible to know where you are
because only a whole heart can know
any whereabouts.
I am tempted to get a needle and a string,
mend it all.
Unfortunately that is absolutely out of question.
Some peaces can never be sown together again.
You left me here stranded in disarray,
it is not your fault,
neither is my pain.
just an image of good will and sacrifice.
One day it is gold, and an other day silver.
And mostly it is just a deep longing
of some sorts,
until the inevitable happens.
Did it happen to you?
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4 comments:
I know, it is not Goethe, my writing. But who cares. Goethe just accelerated an other love song, an ode to love for eternity. And then that person died somewhere in heaven (Faust second part). That is not a good ending, despite the fact that I do acknowledge his efforts and his skills.
are there any good 'endings'?
Sometimes there's simply a yearning - the only word I know to name that hollow place.
Vackert!!!
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