The Heart Unbound

In the quiet chambers of the heart,
where shadows dance and memories linger,
there lies a captive soul.
A heart, not made of stone,
but woven from fragile threads of hope and ache.

It beats, not in rhythm,
but in desperate yearning—
for love, for freedom, for release.

This heart, my heart,
is a caged animal.
Its bars forged from the iron of lost dreams,
its breath stifled by the weight of unspoken words.
It thrashes against its confines,
seeking solace in the echo of forgotten promises.

Listen! Can you hear it?
The primal beat,
like a wild bird fluttering against the ribcage,
desperate to soar.
It longs to break free,
to taste the open sky,
to feel the wind against its fragile wings.
But alas, it remains imprisoned—
a fragile thing,
bound by the chains of love and betrayal.

Yet, there is magic here.
In this confinement, this ache.
For within the cage,
secrets bloom like forbidden flowers.
Love, like a wounded sparrow,
seeks refuge in the darkest corners.
And hope—oh, hope!—
it flickers like a solitary candle,
refusing to be extinguished.

Once, this heart danced to the rhythm of whispered vows.
Once, it soared on the wings of passion.
But now, it beats a mournful dirge—
a requiem for what was lost,
for promises shattered like glass.

But mark my words!
The heart is not made of stone.
It is a tempest, a tempest yearning for release.
And one day, oh, one day,
it shall break free.
It shall rise, fierce and unyielding,
defying fate and gravity alike.

For love is a rebellion!
And this heart, this caged beast, shall be its revolution.