| Hi, this is the redo of the Villanelle poem. Hope you enjoy!! Taisha Hurting Hearts His heart is dead and full of hate. Beyond repair I sit and stare. My love can never move from fate. The love that's lost and never late, has become a prison I share. His heart is dead and full of hate Sweet sounds I make in solemn state. Weak heart unwinding with despair. My love can never move from fate. To disclose emotional bait, with fervor feelings can compare. His heart is dead and full of hate. Can sounds surround a lover's mate, and with spirited psalms repair? My love can never move from fate. I'm slain and remain to negate. I wait for love he can not bare. His heart is dead and full of hate. My love can never move from fate. |