Wear the broken heart
Right out on the sleeve
It’s not just sadness
Soaking in full bereave
Swinging serrated apathy
Did cut and callously cleave
All the hopes and wishful dreams
The dark and evil night did thieve
Clouds sprint by across the sky
In the lonely bright of day aggrieve
The loom is battered and broken
Moths disintegrating all the weave
The scythe did swing
Cutting again all I believe
Sparks 