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.