₦airaland Forum

done.

Thank you for those kind words.
Let me quickly correct an impression here, I am not the author of the poem; it does not belong to me.
In fact the author is from Toronto, the provincial capital of Ontario, Canada.

Attached is the picture of the artist

Send me a PM for a link to download

NB: Don't drop your mail here to avoid unwanted mails from other folks on here.

Written and performed by Igor Oro.

If my pen is a brush, then this page is my canvas. Every stroke is a memory soaked in sadness, every colour is an emotion that leaks from the soul, every painting a dream amidst the white background, like a photograph frozen in snow.

They say the strongest shade of red comes from a bleeding heart; out of the pain of a love that’s been torn apart.

For me, that was you. I mean at some point i guess everyone plays the fool. No need to cover it up, I’ve shed my fair share of tears too. Manipulated and used, you played my heart out like a piano, until it finally bent out of tune.

Now the sounds of my memories are lacking in clarity, lost in the deep end of this pool of disparity, sometimes i feel so close to you until i realize that you’re actually way ahead of me.

On this one way street i see you fade into the future, while I’m barely able to move; all i do anymore is listen to old record tapes that remind me of you, warm music that was once meant to sooth, now just feels like more salt on these wounds.

Failed promises creep into my dreams at night. Constant reminders of all the things i didn’t do to make this right, remnants of your scent and what you looked like flood my past and for a brief moment i get a chance to bask in our memories but they never last, i always wake up too fast.
The inevitability of each morning, opening my eyes to the reality of not having you by my side, and as hard as I try to avoid it, I keep playing back that night when you told me your love wasn’t true. That pain hit me like an arrow, pierced my heart and went straight through; now it just hurts with every thought of you.

I did my best to make it seem like I didn’t care, but it was an obvious bluff. When it comes to love, there is no such thing as too much -there is only not enough. And in the journey between this world and the world above, I wonder if the hearts final regret..is the fear that it may never have truly loved.

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If you'd like to listen to the audio format, visit http://9iceclick.com/index.php/2015/11/23/283/