Prena Poetry

I think there is a melody to every heart break that crumbles a human body every once in a while. Somewhere as someone watches the moon and sips coffee from a broken mug that has been glued together for the second time moon—someone in some place is falling apart, looking at the beauty of the same moon and understanding that one day they will wake up to a nostalgia of what it felt like to be a human, one day their feet will no longer caress the soil and the water, one day they will perish into grinding ashes. But the moon will always be there playing a melody to the beautiful broken people on earth. It will always be there, radiating art and watching the people get blind with their own soaking tears. So tonight, here is what we will do, we will play a song, and sing to the moon, to the kindest souls and the sweetest lovers that cosmically passed away under this same moon and breathe, as we let this impermanence dissolve us in its melody. Our hearts are broken, it will break again but we shall never be less beautiful.