The Art of Heartbreak

Simplicity of childhood love and play.
The mind does dwell on joy. The twinkling dies
With sorrow dripping like a poison. Say
The words, honey dipped lies forcing vacant eyes

Up towards starless sky's. The sun again sets
On love. No hope of being unmarred each scar
A ghost to dance on graves so lost. And yet
With bleeding hearts we march for love and far

carrying dust, decayed memory, loves past.
Paths veiled, soul searching, vanity in laced
expectations. Always the first and last
thought like a ship, on stormy seas. A chase

for survival, salvaging the heart.
Pieces brought together stained glass, pure art.