I kept my heart in a bell jar
shut tight
floating in formalin
in an antiseptic dark room
as I slept through a hundred years
hoping for a shaft of moonbeam
a touch on a blue moon night
Instead a scorching sun sent its rays
through chinks overlooked
and uncovered
drank up the cradling liquid
my heart dry and shrivelled
suffocated
and died
Despondent yet powerful… Evidently we have all died more than once during the course of life.. But may be there’s a last bit of preservation or embalming done unknowingly, unavoidably… Poetry is ones such form…
Rather sad actually , albeit a matter of poetic courage to share a subject like this.
Immensely heart breaking poem.
Outstanding!!!
Thank you all for appreciation.