Death Of The Heart

0 Comments

Tags:
  • Angst

    Death Of The Heart


    Hours, than days when is felt that only of ice, cold stone
    The heart frozen from anger, 
    disappointment, angst and despair
    So still that there is no longer a heartbeat
    yet still alive, yet dead to everything around it
    In existence only to its self, and yet not existing at all
    Blood stagnates, as there is no longer movement
    Blocked and forever locked
    Slow, painful, harsh
    Death of the heart

    Lena Marie
    9/23/2009

    Poem Comments

    (0)

    Please login or register

    You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
    leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

    Login or Register

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    LenaMarie’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Death Of The Heart 0
    Dianne Spells Nadine 1
    The Greatness Of Your Character 0
    Forever My Friend 0
    Destined 1