The small warfield of myriad battles
few were triumphant, a lot were fatal
burdened with despair, fidgeted and unrest
once there dreams were sought to nest

home for love, passion and reform
gloomy it turned, after the storm
beating up being weary and worn
bear the freight of promises torn

one half of mine through thick and thin
confidant of every defeat and win
the secrets that it kept within
throbbing inside like spiny whin

reconvening the shreds of heart
razed by one and was torn apart
still it is ready to be my friend
pledged to never leave me in end