• The heart beats and yearns for a love,
    And when it finds it the heart is free as a dove.
    But when all hope is lost,
    And the heart is at cost,
    Comes the story of heartbreak and pain.
    For we have left lain,
    The fetus of a passion,
    In a disorderly fashion,
    For one can not handle the work.
    So instead of putting forth effort they fill the other with hurt.
    As to not be a part in this twisted little skit.
    Of agony and misery towards the lit,
    Flame of love which has now been exstinguished
    Leaving behind the ashes of love relinquished.