No amount of bandaids or medication could mend this bleeding heart.
This bleeding heart that lies within my iron chest and behind my bones of dust.
In early times my heart was intact and my bones were solid with power.
The words left hanging in the air had yet to be said, and my soul was a brilliant green.
The corroded mind inside my skull did not even exist.
Only passionate gardens and clouds of divinity made up my world.
Oh, how I wish for the tape to be rewound.
