The broken heart is a martyr of love,
giving of itself until the very end
when there is there no more reconciliation;
it is cried over, again and again.
A picture of two lovers in happier times
is turned over, thrown, and intentionally broken;
the strewn shattered glass, denotes a deep pain unspoken.
The loving heart, loved with everything it had,
until it stopped beating and could love no more.
In a cold dark room, its martyrdom is mourned.
The once loving heart is turned to stone,
and it is warm no longer, but cold.
The once warm heart is cold;
it is so cold.
