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Frailty..

My heart is prone..
Fragile, a biscuit bone..
To emotions..
It can't afford to be thrown.
Into the dungeons of misery..
It can't bear to be blown..
Swept by the hideous gale..
Bereft of all sense of reasoning.

I asked my soul..
"where is thy victory upon the hills of sorrow?
Is thy fate the merchandise traded upon the uncertainty of tommorow..?"

My heart is frail,
weak, it may fail...
To recognize..
The importance of existence...
Because, as a lonely soul walks in the valley of tears..
He becomes immune to life's worries and fears..

I know not if the sunset will be blue..
I know not if love is sweet and true..
When fragments of betrayals litters here and there..
Coming together to form a formidable force your soul can't bear..

Do you flee or look for ways to become free..
Free from the chains of stagnation..
Free from the fetters of feelings unrequitted..
Or remain bound, hoping you will be discharged and acquitted..

This heart is weak..
An emotional freak..
It becomes sick..
When he finds love too slow to be quick..
Will he weave the tapestries of his own fate..
Or decide to settle on the hills of faith..

Can he be made whole..
Rescued from the hole..
That has brought the tears of misery upon his heart and soul...?

This heart bleeds..
Incensed in insatiable wants and needs..
Bemused in thoughts of what will be..
Hoping that she will be..
The reason why the morning is cast..

...with a gleeful smile of faith.
Upon the winds of the morrow.

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