The wounds of my broken heart,
Awaits to rejuvenate and heal.
The smashed and shattered dreams,
Blocks my passage to zeal.
Yet I hold the rope,
To climb the mountain of hope.
The sight of the malevolent night,
With the sky full of gloom;
Never bereft my wish for a morning so bright,
With the flowers to gleefully resurrect and bloom.
The storms of my life shall never cease,
But my patience have never let me to scream,
And I wish for that everlasting peace,
Which every being might have dreamed.
The sorrows of my past,
Awaits to perish and fade.
My anguishly bleeding soul,
Longs for a blissful aid.
Yet I hold the rope,
To climb the mountain of hope.
Beautiful.