The Wounded Heart

-The Wounded Heart-

The wounded heart,
fingernails stroked upon the scars,
and all the stars redolently fade into night,
caught in the twilight of an ancient glare,
the soulful, doleful shadows of the remnants of you there.
Trust, tossed upon the frigid flame,
frozen in the icy womb of your infinite eyes,
the sullen echo of a sad refrain. 
Waiting for the bomb to drop again.

© Richard Michael Parker 2013