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Starvation Of Your Most Vital Organ

by Wings Of An Angel

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I feel the hunger of a famished heart,
That faints and gasps for sustenance,
While yet the blood that feeds my veins runs free,
And round my lips the ruddy roses burn.

Ah! little know I, who thus complain,
What pangs that famished heart endures;
What bitter woe it feels, and knows not why,
And sighs and moans for nameless cures.

I hear it whisper, faint and low,
"My life-blood is a desert wide;
No green leaf grows, no crystal stream
Reflects my image on its tide."

And then my bosom heaves with sighs,
And tears of anguish dim my sight;
I feel the pangs of burning thirst,
And long for death's refreshing night.

But ah! I know that death will come
Too late to save this famished heart,
When all the springs of life are dried,
And life itself has fled away.

Then will I curse the hand that gave
This vital organ life and birth,
And wish that I had never lived,
To feel the pangs of death's keen birth.

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released August 6, 2023

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Wings Of An Angel Israel

My own identity feels like a construct, a collection of roles and personas worn like so many masks. Who am I, really?

Perhaps in the end, we are all just characters in someone else's novel, puppets dancing on strings we cannot see.
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