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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2055816
Aging and sadness
How can it be that the mightiest of men may be felled by a heavy heart...
There's no way to thwart the inescapable burden of despair...
This merchant of sorrow, the conveyor of sleepless nights; Courier of gray hairs...
It resides in the darkest of lairs, the cavern in the chest, this heavy heart, empty of jest...

Must I be a slave to its bidding, its every behest?
Aye, I must, lest the beating of this heavy heart skips a step, flutters away to the eternal rest...

I feel it now, calling to me...
It brings nothing but pain, and small bits of hopeful fallacy...
I'm re-assured, its heaviness will be the death of me...

For its weight is too much to bare...
This heavy heart, this conveyor of sleepless nights, Courier of gray hairs...
Full of jealousy and despair, it beats, in the darkest of lairs...

Until the day the carrier...
No longer cares...
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2055816