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The Heart

The heart is forever as empty

As of it of its passengers,

The continuous rane of doubt

It conflicts on itself in order to keep pushing onward,

Knowing that it has the ability to stop whenever

It chooses not to because...

Its purpose is to serve those; Just as those of a beating

heart.

Stopping the flow will end one's session

Leaving them immobile to the life in which they thought

they were living,

Without the heart, The body is forever as empty

And when something tries to fill it

There is no such place to fill,

If you remember the heart, You'll remember the body

The place where the emptiness departs






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