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by Alex
Rated: · Poetry · Emotional · #1905256
My first Iambic Pantameter poem
The Human Soul

the soul—it paints, it quenches us, the vine.
the human sleeps—he searches for the painting.
loving breaks your name, but kisses with the
yearning soul, the patient soul—it follows
seeking breaths the angels blow. The fire, the
burn, it waits and remains falling for the
human, never failing, never leaving.
© Copyright 2012 Alex (henrya09 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1905256-The-Human-Soul