Heart searches to steal words.

This is a story of a heart. 

A confused heart, disturbed and broken too.

It knows not about the knot that it has been born into. Blunt by the gunned nerve. 

Where did the soul go? Like it’s been shoed away by the ghost rider, for the fright of being burnt.

Why was it so lost as if there was no more willingness to stay. 

Not to stay but to be butchered by the strong blades, of cut that were preferred over the unconventional, pained valleys of dissection. Cut and chop. Chop and cut. 

What else was remaining? 

“I haven’t thought about it for I see no way ahead of me.”


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