The heart is
Deceitful
Indecisive
Ambivalent
And, frankly
Childish

It's whimsy is
Unparalleled
And it's style is
Overdone
It's either lost
It's mind
Or never had one to begin with

It operates on a level
That is not physical
Not mental
But a completely different
Plane
And it's odd
For lack of a better word

The heart is ominous
It is ambiguous
Perhaps even indifferent
Not caring for the fate of it's
Keeper
Simply chugging
Slumping
Thumping
Along for the sake of it's own being