Bleed

What does one do when one reaches work and has absolutely no mood to do anything productive but have tonnes to do? Why they write a song ofcourse! Someone once told me that writing songs is like poetry...it needs to have structure...and flow from the heart - whether it makes sense or not is secondary. I stopped listening post poetry and figured hey lets give this a go...

Once lived a girl,
with a heart pure as gold,
Love was her essence,
stories untold.

In dreams, she soared high,
unaware where she stood...

She bled from her heart,
stains etched in her soul,
Bleeding for what was,
what's left in the bowl.

Her world, once a tale,
a Prince in her sleep,
Yet reality sneaked in,
promises grew steep.

She bled from her heart,
through the shattered chains,
Bleeding for her escape,
amidst life's strains.

The dream, a fragile glass,
shattered by fate's class,
Pierced her golden heart,
turned it to brass.

Never in her wildest dreams,
did she foresee...

Bleeding from her heart,
through life's storms and rains,
Bleeding to navigate
through the hurricane lanes.

Love's path, a winding road,
giving without return,
When love's one-sided,
a heart's pain to discern.

Never in her wildest dreams,
did she ever see...

Bleeding from her heart,
through life's joy and pains,
Bleeding for what was,
and what still remains.