I am done with my graceless heart, truly.
For it only beats to make me survive.
It's taken me through stark streets unduly.
Broken into shards in his hands, deprived.

He took the moon from my eyes;  tore my soul.
I became an empty grave in the sun.
As frail and lax as a newborn foal
Distressed, from my hunter I could not run.

It is always darkest before the dawn.
I awoke from my slumber in the Spring.
I won't be that shell again or so drawn.
Hold it to up my ear and hear it ring.

Grief doth fade and hope doth thrive, from ashes
My all no longer under your lashes.