What Good is Love Without You?

Wind blows through the exposed center of my dying heart,
cracking through dried blood that once flowed through my now cold veins
the feeling of your touch amplified in my mind,
though the warmth of your body left my presence long ago.

Your sweet voice floats on the freezing air,
the air that hisses through the widening cracks in my aching heart.
My insanity swarms over me like gathering clouds,
and they rain upon your silhouette,
Your fiery eyes shining like molten gold through my storm of tears.
Rain, as it gathers in gutters,
Floods the run down streets on which I sleep again.
But this time, my fallen angel, you won’t lift me from the stones.
For you’ve fallen even further, oh so far away.

They pushed you off our little cloud,
and dragged my back to hell.
The doctors went and took my heart,
and pulled out all the stitches with which you so carefully fixed my heart.
Blood poured over all my hopes,
they stole the most important piece.

They gave it back…
But what good is a heart without incentive to beat?
Without love?
and, my darling, what good is love without you?