His fragile heart lays broken by the jagged teeth of life
He never saw it coming, never fathomed the possibility
It was like the boredom of purgatorial souls
forever languishing in the miasma of regret
But was it his fault to have loved and lost?
It was better than to have never loved at all.
The acid tears run down his flustered cheeks
as the gargantuan headaches pound away unforgivingly
The dusty dungeons of loneliness beckon to him
He feels no objection as he edges towards the black light
It was an Armageddon of the heart
And the chubby angelic cupid seems to be dead
But then the spirit rises like a phoenix
From the fiery aftermath of its consumption
Confidence bursting like sore wounds
that are popping from the ripeness of recovery
The cruel world is his playground
And he will rule it like an 8th grade bully.
Not taking any prisoners on his forward march
towards supremacy of the heart and soul
Because he has learnt to trust no one
But his unwavering, irreplaceable and devoted self
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