Ruthless

Within the simple heartbeat prowls a spell Which hunts a tender cage in which to dwell To resonate its richness: share its thrall And claw dank loneliness from chosen voids. It is a predator, and rest assured Creature for which we pine is just as fell As any carnivore of which they tell: For mercy not in repertoire at all. It strikes in seedy club and idyll dell And tears internal organs, hope smoke-cured, From bloody carcases as once it buoyed Such viscera on optimistic swell. It’s not that beast will drag all hearts to hell; It merely rings for “self” that last death knell.