Skin soft as sorrow
Eyes deep as the seas,
Hair warm from sunlight
With no one to please;
Words without voices
Pain without tears,
Lips worn from kisses
While darkness it nears.
A heart made of sorrow
Hands of pale porcelain,
A soul full of thunder
Will the world turn again;
Flames without fire
Solitude without sacrifice,
A tongue lost to passion
While fate rolls it's dice.
©️ Peter Davies. 2022
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