Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Broken Heartless

What becomes of the broken heartless, weaving thier way to your broken dreams. Fancy free footed, feeling well healed. Flightless game hearts are eaten, consumed at every meal. Traps for fools wanting beliefs, loves tormentor gains easy access and removes your every door. A key to the lock that seems to fit, is given away freely and all at once he has his way. Told of tales of false found desire, desires to brighten your day. Antisipating needs that lighten your low, dark seated highs brings only cloak-giver. Cold deficiet hands and butler serves crow, plate up sour meal of twisted black carcus. Place it up on table, pressed linen and refined silver dreams. Seated alone in desert with desert flowers, while the dream is lost at sea. He won't be there to save you, his serving days are done. Next ship for him is ariving and where there was two now there is one. Wine poured in glass has soured, the taste is of times yet to come. The glass bought with love now is poisoned, and the flowers in vase start to rot. If love was a lie when it started, the truth finally lies in its end. All of your efforts to save it, Some broken hearts never mend. The oddest of couples are left wanting, and their bark is falling from trees. So what you gave you give away, and what you take you took today. Copyright (c) Robyn Whittaker 2013.

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