porcelain heartstrings

Because I could not hear the silence, It traced its memories to me Because I could not stop the sun, It tore through the moonlaced remedy Because I could not stop to see The bellicose symptoms rising They stormed on through so gallantly And my shell-shocked heart realizing Too late Too late That the days ahead are dwindling Blitheness sterilizing Slowly scorching, leaving all bereft and bare Displaced and haggardly dying Bone marrow , deadening Because I could not hear that voice The silence, deafening Soundlessly attending the quiet Death Of this weak heart's porcelain strings.