Thus began the story
Of a heart carved in memory
Waiting in a public garden,
A scar awfully etched,
A settlement of love bargain.
Adored and chanted honestly,
sculpted into depth faithfully,  
Then repudiated,  
Expected not to be waiting,
More likely to be wilting,
Shunning the mercy of heaven,
Depleting love creativity,
Debilitated by fake Solemnity,  
Cohabiting with ancient silence,
A blackened dead evidence,
A word on a bough or a dull stone
No one knows when
That in love memory was born
With  engraved  letters
Everywhere, On  its skin
Beyond its   own ken,
And was left in fetters,
Enslaved
For negligence and history.