Poetry Catharsis

The Wine Of Blood

A drop of hers touched the ground,
The world of his came around,
When bones orchestrate as one,
At last both will be gone.

Hath the sun not seen,
How the moon has been,
But still the heart beats,
From the atrocious way he treats.

O' beauty at heart,
O' beauty at heart,
Why must you look far from art?
Though eyes know you will be apart.

Listen not the truth of men,
Listen lies but then?
See the brain understands,
Yet the heart cannot stand.

Aye he does not care!
Aye he does not love!
Aye he does not see!
Aye he does not mean!

Drinking for all god knows,
Red beauty watch as she flows,
Hope begs for her to see,
As expected the one disagree.

Hugging the thorns of what one should not.