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.
