A purple heart
How much more red, can a heart be
Till when will the heart not be the sea
How long does it take to believe
'I love you' and set your soul at ease.
She was young and so much younger for her age
So I stared and stared for nights and nights
And finally a pen was on a page
The delicacy of love and its fragility high
I caressed softly the words between the lines.
And there, there where my fingers found air to breathe
Was a poem composed, the stanzas and the rhymes
It spoke of her entices and her hellish temper
Not that romantic of words to chose upon
The aura around her was unkind and yet so warm.
This one had a halo
She had a heart and a soul
She had horns
This one had hooves and fangs
And wings of no color.
She was divine
And she was evil.
Copyright © Raynolds Moseamedi | Year Posted 2020
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