Mercy of the heart

And I was once told that

The new is formed by the inspiration of the old

The one who lost the heart in the new

asks, as if someone might knew,

Can the soaked paper still burn?

While I wonder if Love will ever learn.

We are at mercy of our hearts

This is where it all starts

Even if we didn't chose to feel as such,

We didn't ask rationality that much

It's like a sickness

To prick us

Or to guide us, in it's red mass

From the place, in which I was

to a place in which to stay

For a while and I once was happy looking at the sky

It got hold of me,

made me it's hostile,

Out of a text file.

And yet you see,

I'm at the mercy of my heart.

And solitude was in my sky

Outside it gets dark

And I dream of a breakfast at the stairs of the park.

Next to the homeless near the ark.

And I look out of the window again

then I wonder when

And the new comes as a amen.