Thy Mortal Heart

What would a soul be without a mortal heart?

Forever 

Loathed and feared

Unraveling the inevitable 

Of undesirable dreams

Thy eyes close

Out, out, brief candle

The suns of all centuries cannot outshine thy light

That burns

Within

Thy mortal heart

Delicate and bloody

A massacre of entangled veins

Breathes life

Into each morsel 

The tiniest of infinities 

That resides within the malleable friction 

Of thy soul

Thy mortal heart

Cold and bloody

Attacks as it pleases

To kill thy subtle soul

Thy mortal heart

Desperate and bloody

Cuts off supply

Of liquid sanctity

Of its supplier

Disconnecting itself

Knowing it is needed

For mortality is not mortality

Without a heart

To beat through

Thy senseless soul

Thy mortal heart

Blunt and bloody

Mixes emotions and fears

In a glass bottle

Bound to break

Shattered against the fragile agility of the mind

Thy mortal heart

Vital and bloody

How selfish could thy heart be?

Sought for attention 

Not thy worth, love, or happiness

The mere acknowledgment of its existence;

it sought

Its freedom; it pleaded

Locked in a cage 

Of undesirable planks of bone

For it sometimes is forgotten

When thy head consigns to oblivion 

It is to pick up the specks of leftover sanity

Stored between the stacks of guilt

Trying to balance; in and out

Fresh hopes; inhaled.

Intoxicated dreams; exhaled.

Thy mortal heart

Loving and bloody

Explodes, gushes

To thy forgiving knees

Naked in the bloody palms of its owner,

Life breathed into each morsel 

The tiniest of infinities of its entangled veins

Reversing the inreversable

Trust thyself

For every heart vibrates

To that iron string

Thy mortal heart

Dazed, bloodily confused

Lost 

In the bewilderedness of entangled infinities

Confining thyself

To immortality

Loathed and feared

Forever