Love's not a sunlit, verdant field,
Where laughter rings and hearts are healed.
It's not a dance of joyous sound,
But frosted silence, beauty profound.
Love's heart, a glacier, vast and deep,
Where passions slumber, secrets sleep.
It chills the touch, a breath held tight,
A frozen landscape, bathed in white.
Your eyes, like pools beneath the ice,
Reflect a world both cold and nice.
My steps are slow, a cautious tread,
As icy whispers fill my head.
A distance lingers, vast and wide,
A frozen sea where feelings hide.
No warmth to bridge the frosty space,
Just whispered doubts, a chilling trace.
We move in circles, hearts on hold,
Two frozen statues, stories untold.
The air is crisp, a silent plea,
A yearning gaze, for what could be.
The world around us, stark and bare,
Mirroring the emptiness we share.
A fragile bond, a whispered vow,
Lost in the silence, somehow.
No fiery touches, no burning kiss,
Just frosted smiles, a silent abyss.
Emotions frozen, locked away,
Hiding behind a mask of gray.
Words like snowflakes, soft and slow,
Fall on deaf ears, where feelings don't flow.
Misunderstandings, sharp and keen,
Cut like ice, a chilling scene.
The distance grows, a chasm vast,
Hope withers, fading ever fast.
Love's fragile bloom, encased in frost,
A beauty lost, a feeling tossed.
The silence deepens, all is still,
A frozen heart, a frozen will.
Tears like ice crystals, cold and bright,
Reflecting a love devoid of light.
Love's final sigh, a whispered breath,
A frozen landscape, touched by death.
The memory lingers, etched in white,
A love turned cold, lost in the night.
This love, a monument of ice,
A silent story, a sacrifice.
For love can freeze, a chilling art,
Leaving an emptiness in the heart.
About the Creator
Moharif Yulianto
a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook
Keep reading
More stories from Moharif Yulianto and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.