Herzschlag

Herzschlag

The heart:
A futile instrument,
Open to change,
Vunerable to pain.
A most curious implement,
Completely strange,
Has control of the brain.

My heart:
Not my most favourite of things,
But by no means the least,
Though many like it broken.
I enjoy most of what it brings,
A most curious beast,
But its word is law once spoken.

Your heart:
Will remain ever a mystery,
Locked away in you chest,
And sealed off in your eyes.
But I must know your history,
The hurt and the rest,
So perhaps we could compromise.

The heart:
Will only let in whom it trusts,
And such loyalty is only earned;
Not bought with diamond rings.
Will choose passion over 'buts',
Will never shy away once burned,
The heart, one of life's most wonderful things.