This may be my finest hour
As I topple down my crimson tower
I lick my lips as I breathe to speak
Yet dashed hearts have already broken seals:

I profess a deepest regret, my dear
For I shame to wear a heart so dark
To leave you unknowing, I fear
That you've already made your mark

Many moons on end, I rebuked each beat
For I dreaded to wear a heart so light
I shunned the ambience of the writhing heat
But my gaze burned as you indulged my sight

Dashed hearts creep through shadowed lights
That were left ajar by starry nights
Blanketed under its seductive mist
Locked against a grasping fist

Those longing eyes pierce across dying skies
Dashed hearts unnerved by logic’s lies
A glint of your smile begs the question
‘Have angels left their maiden bastion?’

Nevertheless, ecstasy does not last indefinitely
Dashed hearts unravel webbed truths,
And must therefore admit to their carrier’s dishonesty

But I refrain from speaking more, my dear
For my dashed heart is too young to shatter
Which sadly serves as a double-edged dagger
That is my regret which I yearn to falter

‘To revel in love?
Or only remain to admire?’

A decision that only you can answer, my dear
When these words  stretches farther than the bounds of insignificant  paper,
My voice will be heard.
Yet as each phrase pours out of dry lips, my mind would wonder,

If the end would lead on, lead on, lead on to dashed hearts,
Or would it smudge recent history and collapse reality to only be dashed hearts.