Home is where the heart is,
but when I knock on the door,
emptiness resounds inside me,
another failed escape.
Love is where the heart is,
yet when I kiss my love,
sadness crushes my pleasure,
she too shall someday die.
Heaven is where the heart is,
but when I dream of heaven,
I'm filled with anger and jealousy,
Locked outside the gates.
Music is where the heart is,
but when I listen to my favorites,
I'm struck with embarrassment,
This is nowhere near mainstream.
Life is where the heart is,
yet when I look around,
I am mocked by shame,
My heart is not this cruel.
My chest is where my heart is,
but whenever I think to check,
I'm overcome by terror,
What if it's not there?
Perhaps Hell is where the heart is,
In empty and silent streets,
The the glaring streetlight of your life long gone.
No passion, no extravagance, just your thoughts, yourself,
Your heart.