My Ever So Weary Heart

My heart, in itself, is a quivering blood clot.
Ravaged by the tragedies brought forth by the ones I held dearest,
That is all that remains.

It was once bountiful, indeed full of pride and tenacity.
It yearned for another weary soul, finding divinity in their embrace.
But, as the ages grew awry, it became evident as to what would surpass.
My heart, my love, fell from grace.

Desolation had engulfed the once joyous core of my being,
And deceit took hold of my conscience.
The betrayal of others had tore out my heart,
Leaving it to decay upon the cold and restless floor.

My pleads of condolence were left unheeded and fell upon deaf ears.
The love I clung onto, the one that had saved my soul, simply withered away.
The Hell that awaited me was now inevitable.
I was to now meet my sins.
My wretched heart will now meets its very end.