The Heart

Oh my what a frail tool

Only noticed not by fools

It hurts, it bleeds and envies too

And always has the room to rue

But other times it feels so swell

and utterly emotionally wellk

But what a pool of lies it is

To ever hate or love

Because the heart is full of lies, and envy also hate 

We're obligated to a world of nasty inevitable fate

Never again to feel the happiness

Never again to feel the lust

I've become so hardened 

By their ways

And never again shall we be sane.