Booth

One last collection.

Brittle-Glass Heart

Two lost souls

Drifting a ways
Neither conjoles

the other, or stays

Instead, on they fly

Freeing their minds in a crystal-ice sky

Numbing their hearts in the clouds

One made of metal

The other of glass

Neither will settle

till the other they pass

Each heart cold as ice

No warming or stopping, no food will suffice

Until, for each, true love is found

Taking harsh tolls

In such untimely weather

Two lost souls

Come crashing together

like gravel and grittle

In clouds made of snow, cold thoughts are brittle

One heart shatters, one bends but a little

There's no worse murder or ripping apart

Than the eternal shatter of a brittle-glass heart.