Hearts Become Sharper Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Hearts become sharper
Through cut and thrust.
If a heart has glimpsed hell
It cuts quickly, deeply -
Take great care
With its knife edge.

I beg of you, let's not
Leave love severed
At hell's grindstone.
Why is the heart keen
To cut to the bone?
Who is to blame?

I beg of you, pull back.
In such a deadly duel
There can be no winners.
Hearts simply become sharper
When they are ground down,
Steeled by rage and fury.

[An attempted translation of a poem in Russian by Julia Drunina]