Song of Them (The Heartbroken)

“Even in laughter the heart may ache, And the end of joy may be grief. The backslider in heart may be filled with the fruit of his ways, And a good man will be filled with the fruit of his ways.” They have been pushed and pushed away So far, The place where the brokenhearted, Walk that path and speak the gibberish of that aimless love. The rubble of what was once them, now seep between their toes; Crunching and slowly turning, mutating and digging into their feet. The heart skips a beat, No It gets up and walks on two feet on the road to destruction, Paved by good intentions. The light shines so deadly but yet so bright in their eyes, They die, with so much effort, they die You smile that simper of deceit, they eat They die, because you smile They ask Why me? Why you? Why we? Be beat, crushed, pulverized Why? But in your eyes they laugh, live, and love So you think, So…you…think We swim down the river of one room tears, The lone cold tears They cry. Like a baby bird learning how to fly, Believing that beautiful lie that all will be right if they try, That beautiful beautiful lie in sheep’s clothing. The ones that believe but don’t make it, Where do they end up? With them, As that scent of so close moves about swiftly past their nose. This is a curse, This is their curse, This is our curse, The curse we wish to recognize, understand, comprehend Is this a story…or reality that we can’t fathom? That they don’t want to fathom, because curiosity Killed the cat That faith, open arms, full of warmth Skin like silk, Glides past the scars, of that broken heart that seems to think without them. Have a mind of its own And surely that is the downfall And down they fall into the Deep Black Abyss, At that end where they break. Crumbled, bruised, neglected they ask Why do we try? It’s futile Though they shout “Your word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path” Guide us and mend our shattered, Broken, hearts fragile like glass Take away the taunting voices of ill faith, we are a disgrace We let that faith slip away, and so did they But yet they stand waiting for that chance, To caress that once sought victory in fingertips reach They reach, They reach, Past heat, the cheat, the defeat Past that lie in sheep’s clothing That beautiful lie, they call, false love when we try. (poems go here)