Broken Heart's a Splinter

Only she knew what it felt like,
The heartache, the pain.
The heartbreak, the drain.
She was tired. Numb.
Broken. Slain. Damp,
like a wet tattered, rotting clothe,
She felt her heart bleed this mundane broth.
Only she knew what it sounded like,
A mile away couldn't be gotten,
Hasn't been forgotten, 
Will never be forgiven.
A lifetime in a hell all of a sudden.
An anguish of hate like a scum plotted, 
It burns. 
Only she knew what it tasted like,
Something bitter, something ripe,
Something sweet, gone dry,
Something sticky, something in a pipe,
Something salty, or just like rye...dry.
A gagging reflex like one of raw pie.
Only she knew what it looked like,
A beautiful canvas blemished,
Something covered with smeared mix of marsh,
Or a plain paper with unhinged sketch,
One that tears her apart from within,
And ravels the out into a spitting dragon.
Only she knew what it smelt like,
Sweet sweet aroma morphed into thick,
But raw, dark but soar, reeking havoc
To the many nostrils.
Spreading slowly like a cancer unknown
to the soul within and the being without,
She trod, she fought,
She taught, she brought,
She thought she bought,
her freedom out.
She ought
to know she maybe be stuck,
Drunk and held in a dance never ending,
With her mate, the scourge of a heart's splinter.
She's caught
in a web of trends too tight,
Tends to fight her from within.
But
Love,
Came and saw a broken wing,
a sore core. 
Gave a precious renewing and a heartful pour
of sweet mending to rekindling the forgotten gold. 
With promise to cherish and to hold
But
Love, 
Flew in from a far away time, 
A distant longing to have and to hold. 
With replenishing ego to build up a torn soul.
This
Love, 
Felt like a God given hug for mishaps had, 
restoring the blessed and yearned for part. 
All in all giving the most out of the best, 
filling the most vast with the pure cream-first, 
And healing, 
Healing a heart's splinter; blooming...
This
Love.
Love always wins.
Love always frees.
Love always brings
with it hope and new beginnings,
Love always gives, 
Love always gifts, 
Love always mends
all sorts of ails.
The
Love, 
seems to bring a happiness forgotten, 
And reignites fresh anointing,
Setting a pace of a heart grown slow and cold, 
With fast pace faster and warmer, 
Giving life to withered petals of the heart's ancient flower,
his
Love,
quenched the bitter thirst of something different, 
something real, something authentic
to give her freedom in the vulnerable face.
And most importantly, 
His
Love, 
reminds of the basic path forgotten, 
now delivered to live afresh, 
Breathes life into the inner being...
Now, sees a brighter day that saves in a heartbeat.
Forever nourishes, forever guards.
This
Love, 
Love always prevails
views of serene quiet waters taken in and, 
of true sun kissed skies and cool breezes.
Here,
the heart's splinter knows not pain no more.