In a room sat two tired hearts,
Fragile and worn out by all the scars,
One was breaking,
One was dying.
"It's a broken heart."
Curious, she watched him silently try to revive it. "Do you love mending torn souls?" she asked slowly.
"No, only hers," he raised the heart of glass with care.
"She'll let him break her," she reminded.
He smiled, "I know. I don't mind doing this again."