My heart’s color [Archives:2006/944/Community]

By: Fuad Noman
My heart is still the widest spout gate

Love and passion's nubs won't sprout

If He doesn't pass through and saturate

And no rose can be garnished by pink or red

Only when his chambers

Illuminating the deep silhouette

If he is stabbed,

His temperate showers are to be brawny

As the emitting of the Greatest Cascade

In the fullness of time

His serenity is grown

Only His bashful face is to be brighter

If Human's candor becomes rained

My heart's color that I own

All artists' hands failed to decorate

But the songs of birds can imitate

As my soul's light can paint and radiate

In soul

with the core of time, the purified place

For the transparent virtue where can germinate
——
[archive-e:944-v:14-y:2006-d:2006-05-08-p:community]