A black heart
Who many knew survived
More horrors than joys.
A heart once red and warm
Was striped apart to its core.
Once red now black
Once throbbing now stone still
Once living now dead.
{A single heart waiting.
A single arrow racing.}
A red arrow
Traveling along on its own
Hasn’t yet found its mark.
An arrow travels alone
Fired free with no direction.
Left in a quiver never to leave
Then selected quickly
For a deadly shot to another.
A black heart waiting to be saved
An arrow searching for its mark.
Two stories of two beings
One who saves another
The other finds a purpose.
Imagine the scene
Where black hearts
Are lonely.
Where arrows are never
Given their mark to find.
A heart needs to live
An arrow must find a mark
Only the arrow can find the broken heart.
The arrow must pierce the heart
The heart must let the red spread.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry of the Ages
PoetryPoems I have written over the last 5 years and I plan on throwing them in, in any random order
