Carve a little more
out of my heart
I'm not yet completely
empty of love...

The feather pen lifted from the page and, finally, he had written his last. He wanted no thunderous applause or any awards of gold and gems. Neither did he desire to be immortalized in the pages of history for countless generations. Overwhelming admiration is, well, just that: overwhelming. As his works were printed and sold all throughout the land for lords and dukes and earls and even the king himself he knew what he had to do.

He sat up from his creaky chair and gave his work one long lasting gaze before shuffling to the main entrance.
Donning a large coat, scarf, hat and walking stick he picked up the sack he packed throughout the week and slung it over his shoulder. He gave a sad look over his home before passing through the doorway and onwards to the highway.

They say he can still be found if you follow the tears he shed along that road...

Do you know that my heart is with another woman?
As I lay here holding you tight against me, my body is yours.
But can you feel this heart call out for her? Someone who isn't you?
Did you feel me as we made love, reach out for her? Cry for her?
It's her I see when I'm with you. And I don't know how that makes me feel.
You think I love you, but I'm just playing your heart like Beethoven under a moonlit night sky, playing a sonata...

Do you feel that? That warm tear that fell from my eye onto your cheek? Could you possibly know it's for her?
When I tremble alone at night, howling at the moon... yearning for the smell of her breath, the taste of her skin... her...

I barely know you, you're just pretty to me. Not as pretty as her.
Your hair is too long, too dark, too straight, too perfect.
Your eyes foster no depth to them; shallow and lifeless, a void. Hers are like diamonds reflecting a blue moon of a summer night.
Everything about you is wrong, compared to her. Your voice, your arms, your mouth, your heart... you aren't her.

But here I am with you, holding your hand.
There she is, sleeping alone.
Life is cruel.

Stop the earth from spinning,
   I will seek you beyond dawn.
'Til I find your delicate face,
   Held in my loving embrace.

The journey our hearts undertake,
   A lesson in dedication and sacrifice.
Whether you've given me all your heart,
   Or never given me a second glance.

Know this is the truth from me,
   Never leaving or failing.
I will be your reliability,
   Rest easy in my arms.

If my God sacrificed
   His only Son for
   A manwhore like I,

Why should I be
   Unwilling to lay down
   My life for His glory?

I pray to die a death
   That will have His name
   Upon my lips when I
   Speak my last words.

I am but a lone man
   Rebellious in flesh
   Aloft in my desires.

Almighty I pray;
   Clean my heart
   With Your Spirit.

"Hey, how are you you doing?"

"I'm doing okay..."

I'm okay because I cannot describe all the different ways I'm feeling apathetic.
And I give you that smile that hides all the hairline fractures in my heart.

Every wonderful longing is swallowed alive,
I'm transcending my emotional capacity to live and love.
All my cheer is shallow and without substance,
Naught more than a cooked marshmallow:
Sweet and crisp without any nourishment.

My wretched self allows me to suffer thus.
Isolated when never alone,
Alone when in true love,
Irreversibly broken,
Choking on my frozen dust.

A summer solace wind storm,
Blowing against my face, ripping against my clothes,
Out here, on the edge, thinking of you,
Imagining your face, in this abyss trying to swallow me.

It creeps against me, holding me to the ground,
I didn't want to move anyway.
But the shards of rain and ice pelting my skin,
Causes pain, causes me to tear up.

I hold your memories in my arms,
I hold your gentleness in my breath,
One last time, I hold you close to me,
Then I let you go.