Voids of hearts

Voids of hearts

are like withered

leaves of bygone



Young saplings do

sprout in vibrant 

springs, hope 

takes birth in 

fissures of 



But the gloom of 

marble tombstones

erected on scarlet

hearts forever



Tombs inscribed

on polished ruby 

hearts stand like

rows of platoons 

of martyred 



Midst celebrations 

of new battalions 

the void left

by the fallen

leaves somehow 

always hovers …





35 thoughts

  1. Beautiful.

    This reads as if at the onproach of winter, Edgar Allan Poe sat down and wrote a love poem as he tried to remember the kind of September in a bleak December recalling past loves as summer breeze gave way to blowing autumn colours and then the love of autumns past turned out to be as dead as fallen leaves on the grass.

  2. Enjoying your words Tanya. I think of the heart lacking similar to how leaves thrive and then fade away. With the renewal in our hearts a new spring can once again allow the leaves to bud and thrive again; sort of like cycles in our lives and how we change with emotion. 🙂

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