She's an anarchist

But she still follows the rules

Of writing haiku.

Heart songs don’t come easily,
For they breach internal depths unseen.
Loving honestly,
A concept that can’t be placed.
Faux lives to live,
Faux dreams to chase.

I had dreams once,
But they’re so far away.
And I don’t know how to forsake
My dreams.

Run,
Or you will be my next decay.

A heart song is hardly pure harmony.
It thrives on tragedy, chaos, and anarchy.
It wakes up just to daily be killed.
When the soul is distressed,
The heart song is thrilled.
Blood in its name has been spilled.

Because of it,
Rest is so far away.
When rest comes, I’ll sleep,
And I’ll stay,
And I’ll claim,

I’m not ok,
That’s not how I feel.
I’m seconds too late.
I guess that’s just my deal.
I’d be afraid,
If I knew how to feel.
You’ll rue all my days.
For if I’m to survive,
From heart songs I steal.

Heart songs lay me down,
And let me down.
I just crave to sleep
Restfully now.

Some say it happens when we lose control
Some say it happens when the government collapses
I say it happens when we lose our
Values
Morals

The bottle is soft
To touch
Caressing my sorrow

Crows scream
A usual tune
Prudent, but useless

I have to run
Into Rome
Where eagles fly

Caesar across the Tiber
Cicero in *******
Pompey unfound

Liberty is dead
The restless have arisen
Dread seeming to bribe destiny

Sword and stone
Catapult and Trieme
Feelings are fleeting

Houses catch the flame
Blades seer flesh
A list has been made

The weak are dead
Strong circumcised
Demons feed