Dreaming, with his mouth shut but still speaking
Shrieking through the night and bleeding out blue blood
Losing, from the never-ending choosing
Feeling dumb, yet still refusing, he’s devil’s stud

Searching for the sign to assign his blue heart for new love
Finding too many reasons why now it’s the perfect time

Holy angels, protect his future wife
Not to ever feel his cold blue heart
Holy angels, please, send him all the light
And grant your grace to that girl he didn’t treat right

Dreaming, with his eyes open, not sleeping
Piercing his eyes through the ceiling to see the sky
Living, but never finding time for breathing
Feeling numb, hardly believing good days come by

Hoping he will find, though he’s blind, someone who’s shining bright
Seeking reasons why his blue heart isn’t a parasite

Holy angels, please, melt his cold blue heart
For the love that will turn his soul white
Holy angels, please, send him all the light
And grant your grace to that girl he didn’t treat right

Alexandra Puškárová

About Alexandra Puškárová

'Every poem has a story to tell'

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