A hole does not grow bigger

Than the heart

Which is its home;

/

A knife does not cut deeper

Than the flesh

Which clings to bones;

/

Time cannot steal the beauty

Of a face,

Whose light won’t age;

/

And fire cannot burn

The story

If burns the page;

/

Thus, I will not be broken,

While I breathe,

Beyond repair

/

And with my hands and thoughts

I’ll reach for hope

Beyond despair