Cracks In a Pulse-Less Heart

Here in this wrecked house passion's corrupted and there’s molded love in the cracks of the threshold... tragic are the echoes within. The air is infected with the stench of rotting hope...rotting dreams... Scents suffocate and I am apt to scream... but the silence is just too loud... time is stressing with its second guessing Yet, when I close my eyes, these dire walls are dressed in lights, teasing with glimpses of familiar eyes… recalling love... that holds no reflection in the mirror. I once dared to walk in love's parallel world and the ache in each step weakened the whole of my heart... yet, there were times I would have lain with death as it’s shameful concubine. Now I live each day…going in circles... wearing this mask of nonsense fooling many...only love and I know the truth... I am wounded and all within has been broken… just waiting to be eulogized