Here lies the poetry of the heart of the heartless.

The strife this child feels is somewhat unbearable, yet completely unknown to most men. He keeps his battles silenced, never allowing allies to become aware.

The only entity that knows of his strife is this tattered paper, written upon by ever sliding ink.

These are the compositions of a threadbared soul, writing out the agony he feels everyday, the love and hate battles, and the wounds cursed upon his heart, of course being, the heart of the heartless.

Send Me Away

Thoughts

Torn Apart

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