Black Heart Poem by Caswell Sibiya

It's true time goes by
It's true people change
It's true even fire burns out
As the woods turns into ash
Ash is windblown
Green pastures, where are they?
Is it the scorching sun
Perhaps the sharp needles of life?
That melody..
Nothing but a wreck
Used to be crimson
Widow on a suit
Dawn being a fortress
To those burnt by you
All there is, is a legend,
Black being repulsive to luck
I hold on dearly,
To my black heart.