An earthquake within my heart,
Let loose the remains of the past.
The poisonous serpents of memories,
Of a man who was clever enough,
To know not to love.
While I let my weary heart,
Sing songs of joy and seek his touch,
There was nothing that could please him.
We lay on the dewy night-time grass,
Silently condemning each other,
For the mistakes we made.
On a rainy day I hear his name,
Which sends it throughout my blood.
Even a name can hold immense power,
So deep and petrifying that if said,
The memories might never be forgotten.
Day by day they sharpen and fade.