The heart in it's own world
is filled with rivers, mountains
and deep oceans,
currents, heights and depths
beyond comprehension.

Nearly drowning
in dark pools of failure,
guilt and regrets
it beats and breaths again
the joy of the  salmon's leap.

Pulsing forth
through good weather and bad;
one minute pessimism
but more often than not
the resilient common-sense of hope.

Love-shaped, vulnerable Cupid-target;
Hamlet died for you.

You are the betwixt-and-between
who commandeers the foetal spring
and death's heavily laden bed.