Wherever you go, love is required
The heart has cried out to you for fear of the sorrowful world
Your apathy will one day take our lives
I swear to you, just think what the constitution is
Don't know why the eyes of the world turned away from us
I saw you, what is your fault other than this?
There is no cry on the lips or tears in the eyes
The grief from time immemorial has shaped him in songs
Make thousands of prescriptions ____ for healing __ but
There is no medicine beyond sight
We are still kings in the wave of fidelity ... !!!!
We leave those who break the heart .. !!!
About the Creator
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Where there's Art there's Heart
Here's a stupid thing: I adore art, but I start to panic whenever I step into a gallery. In the one place I should be at my contented best - surrounded by walls teeming with creative expression - I fall apart. What ought to be an enriching experience, tacitly designed to facilitate the exploration of human empathy and perspective, is for me an overwhelming purgatory of anxiety that compresses me to the point I cannot breathe. At the same time, I experience a sense of extraction, as though my head is being prized open to create a hole so big my sanity could evaporate. Somewhere between these two opposing forces of vice and vortex, I feel myself dissolving in a stream of panic that makes me want to cry; and I feel so daft feeling this way, that all I want to do is run for the hills.
By Caroline Jane7 days ago in Humans
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