Naked on the terrace in Paris,
Heaviest heart written on a poem,
Clarity came late, in vain,
Like on my four arms,
Dragging along and seeking closure,
Dialing random numbers trying to find her.

Heart is sinking deeper and deeper,
Mind is frozen, I am nearly nowhere,
In the night sky my guide star is gone,
My saviour, my messiah, my prayer,
I will look for it until dawn.

And her gone in the dust,
Almost gone with the wind,
A river with one-way flow,
Restlessly fighting the lust,
A heart not used in such a long time,
It started to crust.
Will she turn back before her veins run cold?
Will she learn for once how to fold?
Take a loss so she can win.

Tore the sleeves that I once wore my heart on,
Winds that blow away sorrow,
So low that I can't swallow this pill,
A hill so steep that it holds snow on the tip,
Alone on this trip, solo in Paris.

And It's cold; I'm freezing.
Her was supposed to be the one
Warming me up; I'm getting sick.
I'm burning up; boiling blood.
In the middle of January,
She got me begging for summer rain;
To wash me over, and take my pain.

In the city of lights, my soul dims,
My heart aches, my spirit swims.
In the midst of crowds, I feel so singular,
A lonely soul, adrift and frail.

Paris, once a city of love and cheer,
Now feels like a tomb, so cold and austere.
I wander its streets, a ghost in the night,
Searching for something, but I don't know what's right.
© .🌹.

Gulian & Juliet
@Gulian2.0 & @JJuliet

'The Rose's and Juliet's thorns'