The Heart of Hearts

It melted in the fire,

Whose rosy glow turned hostile,

Whose flagrant inflammation,

Violently whispered.

The blood boiled,

And splashed on the walls,

Staining the carpet,

Burning bare feet.

It was the heart of hearts.

It yearned more than most.

It was tormented and alone.

Its yearning heated quicksilver,

The thermometer broke,
And out splashed its entrails.

The heart of hearts,

Melted like wax,
Dripping hot and slow,
Like awful tears.

Its remains formed a pool,

That people trod through,

And scraped onto mats,

Or sprayed off with a hose.