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