Burden of a Heart

Love hurts. Sometimes.

The heart, what an evil unwelcome contraption
That it should beat so unbidden
Pumping pulses of thick sentiment at random
Its tumorous reasons hidden

How can one trust such an unknown living mythos
Obviously created by demons
This hungry thing consumes most all our awareness
Yet none can state its intentions

I’ve tried to tear its scarlet winged fire out with a cry
And chained it deep down in a cave
But a cold blue wraith named loss filled vacuity
Haunting the new life I had made

The flying red beast would escape its subterrane keep
Crawling back through the hole unhealed
Instead of displacing the sad ghost as I’d conceive
The two became one and congealed

The heart’s a hunter as I have heard the phrase go
And I believe great is its skill
Its seeking arrows care naught of causing sorrow
It lives for the blood of the kill

If God created this mythic organ within
He’d never allow it such power
I say the heart’s a terrible burden again
That I can’t live with or without her