Psyche brought to life by Cupid

My heart is a tumbling stone.
A small, round, grey ball,
shaped by the northern winds that blow.

My heart is a tumbling stone.
A heavy burden keeping me low.
Where have the emotions gone?
I don’t know

I’m afraid of the tears in mid-air.
‘Cause they are as cold as a lover that doesn’t care.
It is such a difficult task to bear,
when love isn’t made of pair.
A perfect love is nowadays quite rare.
Doesn’t anyone have a half heart to share?

My love is an old withered crone.
An ancient echo of a failed call,
that would freeze a person from head to toe.

My love is a nemesis called crone.
At nights it turns into the throe,
which entombs me like the Usher-house of Poe.

And all tears that have been wept,
created a lake for memories to be kept.
The depth is where the feelings were swept,
an ocean floor, where human has never slept.
At times the lost dreamers have leapt
into that world – the poets, a totally different sept.


Share Button
Dušan Kovljen
Latest posts by Dušan Kovljen (see all)


No comments yet. Why don’t you start the discussion?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.