Kintsukuroi
Your love is lost your heart is shattered
mosaicked by a complex of cracks,
wordy weapons leave it tattered
the battle scars of life’s attacks.
Shrouded in a blanket of pain,
you think love’s gone, remote, extinct,
in time it will rekindle again
for life and death are closely linked.
In dark despair, pique's deepest cold
is thawed in the refiners furnace,
there love's small fruit is turned to gold
a warmth you can tenderly embrace.
There those battered shards are gently gilt
becoming a new love token,
where repaired and lovingly rebuilt
you’re more beautiful for being broken
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