It searches nights to find its rest
Will one welcome poorest guest?
It smells its own, but can’t get in,
Try in vein to see within.
A heart once beat incessantly
In organic love, romantically.
Yet, now it treads hesitantly,
Lost its way… Never free.
When she sang in truth and beauty
They stripped her innocence inside me.
It molded her, now slave to thee,
A hanging heart that cannot see.
The heart that travels inside me.
Knows no truth, love… beauty.
Written by Randall Evans
This is the Vile Mint.
The Vile Mint 
Great romantic poem. Kinda adventurous. 😘
LikeLike
Sinply beautiful it is! ☺
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perhaps Instead of:
“It smells its own, but can’t get in,
Try in vein to see within.”
Maybe:
“It tries its best, but can’t get in,
Cries in vein to be within.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for the feedback. I agree, there is something that doesn’t feel right about the first few lines. I’ll revisit them soon 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Word Play … Poetry in Progress and commented:
Enjoy my version:
My achy breaky heart
My torn heart beats within my chest
Will hers welcome my love request
It tries its best, but can’t get in,
Cries in vein to be within.
My heart once beat incessantly
In organic love, romantically.
Yet, now in retreat reluctantly,
Its way lost … Never free.
When yours sang in truth and beauty
It stripped all innocence inside me.
It moulded me, now slave to thine
Damming heart that won’t share mine.
My heart now unravels inside me
Knows truth, but not love nor beauty.
(Modified by) Alan Grace
11 January 2018
LikeLike