The HEARTS Toil
Days of terror and agony,
nights of darkened ceremony.
All too often an empty soul,
most of it full of taunt.
Cursed from head to toe,
can't dip in water to sow.
Broken in all, too far,
anguished brain all the more.
Love seems forsaken,
heart dwells for sermon.
None unrevealed in moan,
nevertheless caused much pain.
Where to cater
when my shadow craves to somber?
Fainted am I, scattered,
melted and not molded.
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