Somebody said to me where do broken hearts go when they can't find there way back home, was in the context of a loved one dying. This got me thinking and i wrote this piece.
He still beated, still struggled to give life though wounded so badly and far from home, from the life giving blood and warmth he once knew. How long he could survive he didn't know every beat took all of his effort and he was growing weaker and weaker. He needed to find his way back home to the place he used to thrive, he remembered that time when he beat in rhythum and in time with hers.
He was leaking badly, surely beyond repair, beyond any hope. Blinded he couldn't see and groped around for any clue as to how to get home. Finally he heard a familiar sound, though a long way off and he struggled to hear he definately knew that sound. He suddenly started to beat stronger as he struggled to get nearer to the comforting sound of her beat. Then he heard her say to him more clearly this time and so tenderly, your not so far from home, I am still here just keep searching for me and you will hear my beat in time with yours, then you will find home.
