I write here for those suffering hearts which die even before they can learn to beat with fullness. They are crushed and exhausted by the overhauling evil of man’s ever increasing immortal desire of the overpowering its counterpart by proving its mightiness by forcing it onto and do what it asked not to do.
It’s kinda human nature to do what it not has do. But what about the one who is charred off by this impateint and hostile double edged sword of carnal abuse. Whether the sword kills or injurse or just scratches away the marks are left forever. The physical marks go off with time but the one’s on that fistful small weakened heart remain for life time.
Those small fists which are for holding dolls are now not even strong enough to hold onto themselves. That small heart now beats faster not because of excitement but out of that stark terror that returns back again and again just to take it off back into the dark memories or rather the nightmare of its charring death.
Those hearts are now lost in the dark shadows of terror which may be and not surely can only rebirth take them out.