Hearts that Break

Hearts that Break

Quiet winds, in meadows, all of flame,

Naked truth, be told to sooth,

The hour of my shame.

Beating hearts, still grow apart,

From years of selfish blame.

Don’t bring her to my mind of blue,

As neither play the game.

Lost am I, my golden love,

For you and yours, I hence became.

I hide now in a cave,

Where thieves will surely steal.

What little truth that’s left for us,

What end is now revealed.

For heaven sinned, upon my lust,

This loss is as I feared.

I'll wake, upon the dewy grass,

And open both blind eyes,

That peered to see the empty field beyond,

What love for us surmised,

And brought what blame adhered.

It had a mind, it had a soul,

Till hell burnt all its flesh.

And left me with an emptiness.

With next to nothing left.

So Here I sit, here I wait,

To breath another breath,

For fell the rain on down so light,

And brought it’s weight upon my chest.

It soaked my head, my essence drenched,

as horses yonder there awaits,

To bring us to a better time and understanding in some other place,

Where there’s no pain and thoughtless haste.

No sting to Ponder, no remorse,

As life steers us in different ways,

Upon the horse I ride sweet pastures forth,

Beginning yet another loveless fleeting day.

For time has lost us in the wind,

And blown us back to dust,

My love, thou taught me naught to sin,

Forget you though I must.

For you are still within my thoughts,

Of every single morn,

And every night, within this life,

Has brought my soul to storm.

In earth’s of green, my love, alone,

My garden, here I linger,

For peace to find, in memory,

Where none will point their finger.

For if we part and finally loose,

What once, we almost had,

As if God was killed, hung in a noose,

And hell, made men feel glad.

This was just the truth of life,

As wheels turn round and round,

Our steeds they stop within our strife,

Where nothing makes a sound.

It’s silence, like a medicine,

Of time, to heal what’s broke.

Our minds and hearts and love is lost,

Where all the fires are stoked.

Not meant to be, my love my sweet,

Mere words can not explain,

My love for you, my soul to reap,

Soft whispers of the pain.

If we weren’t merely, meant to be,

As world’s kept us apart,

Our hearts will wither and forget,

An end, that had no start.

For ages patterned, lives they float,

In mists of streams, on wooden boats,

To fall upon, the shore a man,

And sink to depths of sunken sand.

To fall to bottoms of the chiasmic deep

A cold and wet, damp silhouette

Our love is finally drowned, to keep

Like interest on an unpaid debt.

It’s lost in shadows, forgotten long,

Our hearts, a sweetly broken song.

For worth of each, we couldn’t bare.

Within this life, without the other fair.