Dark Heart


Waxing Philosophical

In the night I often wonder
How my heart became so dark
Was it born in night and thunder?
Did God in heaven have a lark?
Or did He simply make a blunder
I feel if I could open up my chest
I’d find an organ black inside my breast
Not quite from evil or from sin
But from blood beneath its skin
So often it’s ripped and torn asunder
It must be bruised and quite bloody
Occasionally I wish it would be number
But I like my heart, e’en if its ruddy
For I know just why my lifeblood bleeds
It’s cause I see so many needs
So many wandering lost and broken
No words for them are ever spokenMy aching soul bids me help those I know
Them who share darkness within
Maybe together we can find some healing
At last replace this darkness with another feeling


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