In the man lives the heart The wellspring of the thoughts of the heart I wouldn't know how else to call it Feelings but in a valid sense for feelings are devious things Concepts that blur the mind I am baffled by its schemes For it pounces at a time unfortune On a time of false certainty it makes its kill As past once thought dead rises from the grave Now alive and burning as tempered as a bull raging wild A pinch of confusion sent to taunt the mind of the man He asks "What is this?" A desire to take what is taken from him Perhaps the veil that once blinded his eyes has been removed to see what I did not see before All it took was another heart to whisper subtly [Work in progress]