the heart is a fickle creature. 
attached to things that bring destruction. 
i wonder if the heart is aware.
told to beware of what’s to come. 
to hide away from the glow of the sun. 
i doubt that it was, because otherwise 
the petals wouldn’t be falling. 
and my hands wouldn’t shake like they do. 
i also have a fear, that it might be too late. 
to save what once was. 
to leave free,
instead of empty. 
how powerful must one be to 
destroy. or perhaps just afraid.