Still, o still beating of thine heart
Slain are you, held within cage of dark
Stitch thee, with needle borne with golden thread
Cast away heartache then, wrap stilled hands around thine head
Grace thoughts of purest form
Question not life of torn
Ahead those eyes trace paths of thine own destinies
Truth, o heart, truth forgone will now be seen
Lest be known your firey rage, scathed with iron hot
And tread with square frame, constant strength, o thine heartbreak naught.
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Submission Name: Reflections of Author: Life
