If your heart has become a wild creature that no longer recognizes the cage of your ribs
If your heart has become a wild creature that no longer recognizes the cage of your ribs,
If it crashes against your chest like an animal caught in the trap of unbridled desire,
If it howls at the moon of silence, begging for a drop of mercy in the eternal night,
Then lend me your heart, to shelter it in my hands like a trembling ember.
Let me become the architect of your pulse, the sculptor of your hidden storms,
Let me take on the burden of thunder pouring over the fields of endless longing,
The unbearable weight of your yearning, that ceaseless and nameless desire,
To wear it like a medal in the battlefield of your deep and unpolished sorrows.
I will caress your heart like a fallen crown from the brow of a weary queen,
I will shelter it until the world no longer seems a battlefield shrouded in mist,
Until you understand that a heart is not just a weapon of defense,
But also a sanctuary of light and peace, a temple of the tireless soul.
And when you are ready to receive again the gift of its warmth in your chest,
When your ribs no longer seem like iron bars but open wings to the sky,
When your hands no longer tremble at the thought of holding it gently again,
I will return your heart, untouched by shadows, unbroken by time, unafraid.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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