Holocaust of hearts


And they stood in their self dug graves

As she slay them with a heart full of ice

With each blow eye contact was made

Confirming a void where love should have been

Ironically if given the opportunity they would choose death again

Martyrs for love they were proud to be

The cries echo as fallen hearts litter by the number

I lay in my grave barely breathing

Wishing death had taken me

Repatriation back to a love lost world was a far greater death itself

To live with the handicap of paranoia

Is too lonely and dusty a road to travel

A living dead heart is all I shall be

Such a sorry thing i am

In time I’ll come to terms with the taste of gravel and dirt.

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One response to this post.

  1. I Love this: “Repatriation back to a love lost world was a far greater death itself”

    Reply

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