Description
My heart feels raw
So stiff and made of glass
Throbbing and struggling to beat
Bleeding from fresh wounds
Made by Death's scythe
He hath not killed me
Yet he punctures my heart while I'm alive
It now bleeds from the wounds of five
And that number will grow with time
Two stabs in succession
Where the latter makes the former bleed more
And the scar tissue of three older ones rips open
The dressings I wrap do little to soothe them
And all that's left to me is to bleed and heal
Until the scars are so thick that my heart
Is an unrecognizable mass
When it's my turn to pass
But it will be as strong as it's always been
It feels lost, but lost becomes a familiar place
And it's normal for the tears to run down my face
Yet I stand with the will of an army
Looking upon Death with a firm gaze
I know we will cross paths many times
Claiming those I love so dearly
He will test my will, but on I will live
For life only comes once
And when it's time to go,
I will hold his hand, but I will never regret
The pains and pleasures that outlined my life
We all must go and our hearts must follow
The spiraling cycle of life and death
And all who live must bleed and heal.