Work of Art

My heart is a work of art

Designed in the misconception and perception of the thing called love

As fine as any clasical composer yes, my heart is a work of art.

Bruised like those violets I hid in fear that they will wither away

Hidden in the shadows and the cold lonely darkness

Crack by crack, the facade is fading away

Ahh, I'm tryin to pick it up piece by piece, but I'm starting to drift away

Piece by piece, I'm ending my will

My heart will still be standing as it is in its glorius form

My heart is still a work of art.

Though it is a cold maze, that none have finished

Though they all gotten frozen

Those who have tried are now beautiful sculptures

Myheart is still a work of art.