Unforgettable Truths Of The Love That Stains

Pain is what is left
My thoughts ripple through my veins as if they were alive
Out of love, there is pain with guilt

Where my fingers slithered to a pen that kissed paper
Writing that my special love slipped from my grasp
In the absence of viral love, it's difficult to clasp

A flood of shredded tears erupted from my faults and flaws
That is now disrupted by the love pain I caused
My heart flourishes with colors that swell on the gray mind
Tough to paint pictures, when our hearts flicker with pain that’s yet to pause

Wish I was perfect like silk or a piece by Mozart
All I could do was write about what was left alone
But afraid to think back or even trip over a heart of stone

Memories will vanish, but my flame won't incinerate
It’s grueling to be an artist of a half-unknown world
But I’m full of agony, my heart swells in an everlasting swirl

In my now solitary world underneath the weeping tree
Tree and I weep as one
The sky is gray, and no partner of the sun

Pain is what is left again
As if my thoughts could circulate throughout my veins
Writings upon writings of reaching emptiness that stains