The Man Who Emptied His Heart.

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Blog Post About This Poem – Read This Before Reading This Poem.

The day left me nothing worthwhile to remember,
The chants of the evening into depths of soul grown,
Loving her never will become a routine for me to do,
But all chants senses feel, every evening, are for her.

The chants of this day were so different than every day,
As those were a story about a man who emptied his heart.

“Beyond the decade of the second millennium he took,
A barren heart across the plains of the American heart,
In his heart no wishes remained, no pain to ache,
As once more the love he searched for was unfound,
Realities disconnected, broken heart barren became,
Oh’ through the frozen paths to the dairy land he drove,
To find heart beats he lost to arrogance filled sorrow.

Hopes he gathered and into the waves of the lake left,
Oh’ they unfurled and into the depths drowned fast,
Then when around the ghetto he wandered he felt,
The pulsation of a feeling he once into waves drowned,
Ah’ where love sprouted he knew not but fast it spread,
Through his veins and romance built a fortress inside.
Though disappointments became synonyms of day-to-day fate,
Lady who took his barren heart and gave hopes on hopes,
Stalked his heart through the language of hearts he spoke.

Mysteries and fables of modern days in his heart birthed,
Through ways of his own invention through logic he erased,
Then one day, a fear in the corner of his heart he felt,
That fear spoke nothing, left no trace for any logic,
That fear sprouted in her heart about the love he felt,
Her love churned and churned in gossips and fables,
Of jealous minds with friendly smiles like parasites clutched,
Then love lost, only fear remained and that fear spread,
Oh’ through his heart, and his love, and his senses.

Once more beside the lake through falling snow he walked,
In every step he left a bit of heart inside him he felt,
Heart is gone only pieces of flesh beat to keep him alive,
The emptied heart froze under the layers of snow and ice.”.

Seasons may change, every bit of life age may grab,
He thought and made fables of his own to smile and laugh.
One of the nightly fables he made after seeing the sprouts,
Of tulips, he left in the previous fall now waving at him and smiles,
Oh,’ that fable kept him away from the lake that unfroze,
In the spreading warmth of the new birthed spring.

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Photo by Alexandru Boicu on Unsplash

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