By: Mr. Y / Dr. Squirrel
The pounding heart it beats alone,
Inside the prison of thick white stone,
Outside the walls it’s barely heard,
Caged inside like a king’s song bird.
Can you hear it, one and two?
Can you hear it pounding through?
Rain and shine and night and day,
No rest for you, just pound away.
One cross word would make it weep,
Like a dagger plunged in deep,
Blood pours down like tears are wept,
Out of this safe were life is kept.
Can you hear it, three and four?
The blood it crashes like the ocean’s roar,
In vain it bears the taunts and blows,
Always it seems in death’s last throes.
One sin seen would make it scream,
From the pain and hurt of this hellish dream,
Gasping out with every beat,
It begs for safety, oh so sweet!
Can you hear it, five and six?
Like a fetus so softly kicks,
What happened to its bold bold beats?
Why is it drifting off to sleep?
One day you wake and inside you’re dead,
The heart it beats but it feels like lead,
You call it’s name, you say ‘It’s me,’
But noone’s home, its spirit’s gone free.
Can you hear it, seven and eight?
Nothing but its shell remains,
Can you hear it, nine and ten?
Rest in peace. Amen, amen.