By Emma Sloan
A human heart shall surely break, by the time it’s worldly and frail.
From an attack, or
An enemy’s deathly siege.
Or from yearning for the embrace of a loved one long past.
But which is worse?
A sudden clogging of the darkened, winding hallways, that snake through one’s host.
Or the deep, electric desire of a soul that you know is forever beyond your reach?
I would choose to perish of heartache no matter my age and health.
You question why?
Because a tear shed for oneself would be the bitterest tear in all the world.
But a tear shed for a friend would be the sweetest.