A BLACK HEART IS A BROKEN HEART

Knocking on the door
of a little room,
with the fading light
in the silent gloom,
screaming to be heard,
begging to be pleased,
trying to make a wish

Walking on the bridge
of internal disappointment,
he met those stars of the night
staring down at the stains,
with the one of whom
he thought was right

Searching for the lines
with malice, hatred and wrath,
he smote his entire life
into tiny pieces, criticized,
with the one of whom
he thought ain’t a knife

Though time shall heal and write
what is meant or which is light,
yet,
a black heart is still a broken heart

Rushing around
in the smell of an illusion,
he looked for faith
in faithless absolution,
waiting for changes,
seeking for redemption,
he won’t hide from the truth

Knocking on the door
of a broken heart,
with the fading light
in the darkest part,
insecure