O' Lord, please fix my heart,
it bleeds like a forgotten rose,
petals scatter in the wind's cruel laughter,
each thorn echoes shadows of yesterday’s wounds.

Empty rooms echo with memories’ whispers,
light once filled them,
now they wear dusk as shrouds.
Footsteps linger on cracked floors,
a haunting melody plays where joy once thrived.

I question the stars that gleam overhead,
they witness the...