The Secrets of My Soul 

All manifest love,in ways unique.

Your love was, 

A language, 

only I could speak. 
Oh my heart, 

Made a perennial work of art

By scars 

Of words engraved dark and deep 

Painted red, by the blood 

of your love 

I still keep 

like a treasure forbidden 

Buried in the trenches of my old soul 

The plague of separation like,

Tales of unspoken horrors

Of stories untold. 

Natalia Awasty