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.

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