Heart of Stone

My heart is naught but stone.  It does not beat, or pulse or move. It is cold and dark and empty.  It is a weight inside my chest. 

Sorrow sleeps inside me.  It rests inside my soul.  Every time I speak a word, there is danger it will wake.

I grope blind in the dark for light.  A single flame to spark the life.  But there is nothing more than shadows.  And the cold that burns my bones.

There’s a dream inside my soul.

It wishes to be free.

But these chains are holding fast, my heart is broken still.