And they say he sculpted his heart out of stone,
A stone, he became on rage,
A rage born of an unrequited love,
Shattered and dismantled picture frame remains,
Misery and pain of an undaunted age,
Where silent screams conserve
Into a shadow, hatred defies kind domains.
Trapped among the thick mist of sadness
And blinded by the dusk of his past
He wanders, a lost soul,
The tears have been frozen
And the wound no longer bleeds,
For all that he was left with scatter within
Remain broken and betrayed.
Holding on to a dream,
The echo of a long forgotten memory clings
To his blank vision and deaf icy ears,
Emotionless he walks towards the darkness
For the shadow of the forgotten
Had built the pain inside his heart
That slowly has been ripped apart.
Left alone in his thoughts and sorrow
To be a fraction of the lost,
He outrageously craved a new self,
A self he was never meant to be,
Destined to be a part of the rock
He hammered one to be his own part
Solely convict love within a stone heart.