Question of one’s heart

It’s the question of one’s heart

that no immortal can ever answer

for he knows not how to die

for he never grows old

or learns to lose, not others but himself

inch by inch, part by part, little by little

everything that was once him, but never

will be again

No love may exist without death

such is the possibility we are born with.

Like golden apples in a faraway orchard,

you see love and death only once.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s