Delicate Lace

A  Blank verse
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Fastening the strings of my broken pure heart
Like a book without its cover,  naked
Where I once found solace,  now home for pain
Damaged , like a bird stripped of it feather

Enjoy Torturing my flailing poor soul
Like a Sybarite,  a pleasure seeker
The wind clap, fire blaze, and the sun boil
Yet,  she seek not to heal the wounded soul

Tale as old as time,  pain as old as age
When your axe cut branches off my tall tree
Helplessly I sank,  in the sea of woe
With my boat capsized, delicate Lace torn

The shoes might worn out,  the cover may tear
But the strength of the shoe,  delicate lace

©Pen Of A True Gemini™
Art,  A stoic writer