To Be Damned

Never cry over a lover, whether conqured or lost. Never cry, whether if she be acquired or not. Once it is rot, it is rot. To the pyre it be tossed. The heart bleeds; the pen weeps. The eyes need not shed salt. One more down; one more crowned in my backstory vault. To my mind, most the time, there is little need to start. First it bums, then becomes one more trinket left for art.