She sat staring into the blackness where her heart had once been the love she felt for him lays broken amongst the shadows where she has walked many times before breaking a little more everytime soon there will be nothing left to break and she will become cold and make this darkness her home.

Transform my sorrow into gold,
For in the furnace of despair,
Life redefines its purpose,
Crafting beauty from the broken.

Does it all make sense yet?
Does this life have any feeling?
Is our soul in the right hearts?
Will we finally find harmony?

Once a upon a time we were all alive
Passed the golden gates as orchestras
synthesized a symphony
No one ever heard of hate or blasphemy
Peace was found along side of freedom
and we could peacefully breathe freely

Now twice a upon a reality death was rudimentary
The faucet leaking took a soul while all our hearts were sinking
Blood clogged so bad it sent vibrations worth 8 years of seizures
The lineage broken breaks down a soulmate into insanity
The silence of fear hoping to find its harmony

Our lives resemble relics nestled within the dusty corners of
thrift shops, all drawn to these forsaken treasures that others
have overlooked. We take turns giving upon these forgotten
items a renewed affection, a fresh perspective on their worth.

For we are all broken at times, displayed for sale in the hopes
of rediscovering our inherent value, yearning to feel complete
once again. Our hearts linger in the temporal marketplace
of time, where faded dreams gather dust, and past loves
accumulate the remnants of emotions once so vibrant.

Each of our sorrows lies like a heap of tattered garments,
heavy with the weight of our experiences. We observe as
the masses pick us, some to elevate our spirits, while others
seek to let us down.

I find solace among other hidden treasures, awaiting the
discerning gaze that can recognize my true worth; indeed,
our lives resemble relics nestled within the dusty corners
of thrift shops.

You say tell me everything
And i tell you everything

I say tell me more, and you say less
Make me regret I told you so much
You made a mess of me with your touch and your ways
But I knew you would, I've known for more than just hours and days
I've known for so many years, that one day you would break me
I knew what fool you would make me
But I let you, because you gave me bliss
But promise me, let me go with a soft hug, and a heartfelt last kiss

How can I blame her for breaking my heart,
When I was the one who let her in from the start?
I opened up the doors, and she slipped right through,
And now I'm left to pick up the pieces of me and you.

How can I blame her for the tears that I've cried,
When I was the one who filled my eyes with her sight?
I was blinded by love, and I couldn't see,
The heartache that awaited me.

How can I blame her for destroying me,
When I was the one who lost myself in loving her recklessly?
I gave up my sense of self, my identity, my pride,
And now I'm left to wonder why...
~Bantu

I screamed your name a thousand times,
but you chose to play deaf, like you heard nothing.
I cried a river and drowned in it,
yet you walked past me, like I wasn't your everything.

I gave my all, till I was left with nothing but a body.
You took my mind, heart, and soul—now I'm empty.
You were my first, and I wanted you to be my last;
your life went on, leaving me a part only of your past.

What could hurt more
Than being left with a heart scorned,
When the door of love unknowingly closed
In silence, amidst the clattering storm?

Questions linger there,
With no one to answer or care,
Hanging on fire, waiting for a call,
Defying the pain of a broken fall.

Will there ever be recovery
From the tranquility of tragedy?
Or a gleam of hope
In the unlit space of a torn passion's trope?