Sparkatale

It bent with the pain,
Burdened itself with all the hurts
Of eyes who would constantly rain
Outside a soul who suffered the worst.

And how it poured out tears of red
Upon a cold and dirty floor...
But how it welled it up instead
To please the ones that it adored...

No one knew this heart would fail
After having been failed as well.
No one saw a life so pale...
And only time would tell.

There is an empty soul somewhere
That sits isolated and alone,
Screaming out in unheard prayers
Bleeding tears of pain unknown.

Somewhere in the world there lies
A being raining crystal tears,
Hurting from pain that it denies
Refusing to accept its fears.

A heart is laying in a chest
That no longer dares to rise,
Killed itself with lack of protest
Until meeting its demise.

Is this what a heart is for?
To simply try and fail?
When can someone take no more?
When will they hear the wail?

It was a toy, all beaten and battered.
It was an object, torn apart.
It was a figurine, simply shattered.
It was a failed heart.