The Cruel Heart
The Cruel Heart
My eyes, dark and dry like the candle runs out of fuel, tired of watching the fleeting faces between them
My lips, sealed and silent like the person approaching its death, trying to retain the words it said
My chest, choking and paining like some blades in embedded in it, dying to throw out the stuff it gained
My heart, wounded and pierced like the arrows stuck the bullseye, broken into two but still ready to break into four!
