Dust in Heart
In shadows deep, the heart does beat,
A vessel filled with dreams so sweet.
Yet dust does settle, soft and slow,
A weight unseen begins to grow.
The dust within, it whispers low,
The heart must bear what it does not show.
Each day that dawns, the dust arrives,
Brought by the winds of countless lives.
It veils the light, it dims the flame,
And still, the heart must play the game.
The dust within, it calls by name,
A quiet echo of love and shame.
The seasons pass, the dust remains,
It fills the cracks, it stains the veins.
The heart does yearn for skies once clear,
But finds no solace, no escape here.
The dust within, it feeds on fear,
A silent song only hearts can hear.
Beneath the weight, the heart still fights,
To keep alive its fleeting lights.
For every speck that clouds the view,
The heart finds strength to start anew.
The dust within, it bids adieu,
Yet lingers still like morning dew.
The dust brings tales of days gone by,
Of laughter loud, of tears that dry.
It marks the walls, it dims the halls,
But still, the heart heeds distant calls.
The dust within, it softly falls,
A silent witness to life’s enthralls.
Though heavy now, the heart endures,
Through battles fought and wounds unpure.
Its pulse remains, a steady guide,
To navigate the storms inside.
The dust within, it does confide,
Of paths unknown and truths denied.
The dust may choke, it may constrain,
But never will it fully reign.
The heart, though scarred, will find its way,
Through darkest nights and longest days.
The dust within, it cannot stay,
For hearts are built to not betray.
A child’s laugh, a fleeting smile,
The heart recalls, if just a while.
Though dust may dim the joy it knew,
It cannot steal what once was true.
The dust within, it seeks renew,
But fails to grasp what hearts construe.
Each grain of dust a story holds,
Of broken dreams, of courage bold.
It weaves a tale both sharp and kind,
A paradox of heart and mind.
The dust within, it’s intertwined,
A thread of time the heart can’t bind.
The heart may weep, it may despair,
Yet finds its strength in love’s repair.
For every speck that seeks to mar,
The heart reflects a guiding star.
The dust within, it travels far,
But cannot dim what hearts declare.
