My thoughts are of the blackened heart.
The pain that must have been it’s start.
Neglect and misery abound
In deep sadness so slowly found.
A wish or desire denied
And the patience, yet again, tried.
Mistakes so quickly forgiven
And renewed hope always given.
The blackened heart will endure,
Yet, feel the prick of love’s skewer.
Pleasures so hard to acquire
Light the flames of constant fire.
This open wound requires balm
To ease and give the soul it’s calm.
Wants and needs meld into ache
And prayers the heart will not break.
More leaps of faith have been taken
And trust cruelly forsaken.
The blackened heart will endure;
Yet, feel the prick of love’s skewer.