Posted: April 7, 2012 Thus began the story Of a heart carved in memory Waiting in a public garden, On a trunk, for long being watched. A scar awfully etched. A settlement of love bargain Adored and chanted honestly, sculpted into depth firmly, Then repudiated, Expected not to be waiting, More likely to be wilting, Shunning the mercy of heaven, Depleting love creativity, Debilitated by fake Solemnity, Cohabiting with ancient silence. A blackened dead evidence, A word on a bough or a dull stone. No one knows when That, in love memory, was born With engraved letters Everywhere on its skin Beyond its own ken, And was left in fetters, Enslaved For negligence and history.