Keep a green tree at heart and maybe a singing bird will come

Someone did caution me with talk of tides and gales that sail with love.

Love! Tastes like poison on my tongue. PTTTTF!

Suffice to say, I hoped the winds would be a kind sail.

“It is the sword that slays the heart,” I often heard.

So much for caution!

A night like this…
As the world holds its breath, growing ever still,
The silence of a night sings to my betrayed soul,
But all that danceth in my head are soured dreams, regretted dreams of a future never to come to fulfillment!

Lying here as I hurt, a lonely tear falls as I try to fill in the blanks.
Whatever did I not do!

Staring at my typing screen, a blank expression reflects back,
A black expression with eyes as open wounds beneath,
Redness has since replaced the blueness in them.



And that mouth…
A mouth that has forgotten how to smile and has not known a laugh for a while now,
‘Tas only laid with yawns that tell of centuries past since appetite was last known!

Great wrongs have been done me in love, wrongs far than I can put to count.

But the past is dust, a passing cloud, only there for a short while.

Butterflies are God’s proof that we deserve a second chance in life, naught?

A lesson well heed.

For a time now,
I shall keep a tightness to my face and flesh,
A tightness that will speak of leather cured in the sun until it is as tough as steel,
A tightness that will conceal the toughness of a heart burnt by love.

With caution, without vow,
Perchance, I will keep a green tree in my heart and hope that a singing bird will come along someday.

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