Some hearts beat with a firey passion in their soul.
Others beat with a profound love deep within.
Yet more beat in tune with their lovers'.
Still others beat to help other weary hearts.
Some hearts broken pieces still beat their own sorrowful tune.
But mine only pounds at the bars encircling it's bloody grave. Beating, pounding, thrashing and screaming, hoping someone will notice before it withers away.
My heart pounds to survive, a repetitive, overused chant, urging itself to keep fighting.
Yet, at times my heart grows weary of its clichéd torrent of chants, and it slurs, yet I never know why it always bounces back. I am tired of its monotonous rants.
YOU ARE READING
Avenge The Broken Ones
PoesíaThis is simply a collection of the poems I hurriedly scratch out around midnight. I usually write about whatever stokes my fancy at the moment - usually sad things, or ramblings about love. Depression and anxiety rule my life, so be prepared to exp...
