The Sinner|| Poetry

They say, tragedy creates art.
I know, that sinner, kept us apart.

A red dress, with yellow sunflowers on it.
Your white shirt, which glowed under the moonlit.

The grip of your hands, made me whole.
It concealed the wide gaps of my soul.

A sky full of stars,
And there we were, riding a car,
As the trees blur by,
My heart started feeling wry,

The Sinner stopped us,
You tried to discuss.

But the Sinner attacked your spirit,
Your heart split open,
Blood dribbled all over your shirt, making it red.

The pieces of your soul screamed for love,
You wanted to heal, to love again...
You waited for me, to mend your ripped heart.

You screeched all your love out of your heart.
You healed yourself, with the phases of time.

I still remember that night,
Your heart ripped open, blood spilling out of it,
But, I couldn't come.
As, How can a Sinner mend a Saint's heart?

-sresh

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