The Fool

He could see her coming from afar,
He knew he didn’t have much time.
He packed up his heart; holes, pieces and all.
And tucked it away, not giving her any bearing of where it could be.

She came to him, like a maiden in a dream,
She approached his space and whispered a scream:
“Are you the one they speak of?” she said.
“The one who’s afraid, not willing to serve?”

“I am willing,” said he to her,
“But I have no heart, you see. It was taken from me.”
He shuffled his feet and wiped his brow,
Hoping that his lying heart would not show.

She held out her hand.
She smiled and said, “Trust, you need,
I mean you no harm. Don’t hide it from me. Don’t let your lips bleed.”
She promised to him that his soul would be freed.

Alas! A fool he was, for he did what no one else would have,
He gave up his heart; holes, pieces and all.
He trusted her word, the seductress’ tongue,
He gave up his heart; holes, pieces and all.

She snatched it from him, held the heart out of his reach,
Drew a dagger made of gold from her robes.
She stabbed the heart, not leaving a piece untouched;
She threw the heart to the ground, leaving it to beat its final beating.

He was a fool to have trusted her.
He was a fool to have given himself up.
He was a fool to have sold himself to seduction.
He was a fool to have given himself up.