I do not like this stone within my heart
Its jagged edges tear the living flesh.
Devoid of feelings yet it causes pain
Who will cut it out, with blood to wash?
Why do people turn to stone inside?
Something is preserved, we are not dead.
And yet it’s useless even full of harm
I lie here weeping on my unmade bed.
On its stony’s surface evil dwells
Alien forms of life take up this home.
And, all unknowing, we live our sweet life.
Until we’re brought to earth, no more to roam.
Oh do not let me die, I want more life
Where is my surgeon with his sharpest knife?
How my heart speaks 