The Stone

My ink runs low,
Such is life.
I have nothing left to give,
You have taken all that I was.
You may keep my heart,
Place the pieces in a box.
Hide it from the world,
I no longer need it.
Without you it will beat no more,
No joy, no rhythm.
It can never be repaired.

World be weary,
I have a new heart.
It is made of,
The hardest stone.
Chiseled out of misery,
Engraved with pain.
It will not forsake me,
For it can not break.

I will love as you love,
Without care, or feeling.
Bitter taste of a broken heart,
Caused my soul to gag.
It too has left my body.
Gone to find a better home,
Gone to search for you.
I bid it farewell,
And wish it to be lost forever.
Never to find you,
For it still has a light,
And you, would only snuff it.