The Birth of a Heart

The air smelled damp and woody even inside

Coarse soil beneath groaned with each weighted stride

Mud streaks from my boots

Tracing one last connection to my muffled crime

The shovel's fall echoed, a metallic cry inside

Marble tiles, like ribs, crack 

I took in my surrounding

With each heavy breathe

I felt less hollow within

Through the foggy window pane

I could see my newest grave

With a sigh

I removed that loss which weighed me down

The sticky shirt, of crimson and brown,

With a hand on my chest,

I traced the faint scar

Encircled by clot and strife

A faint lub dub

Aha! About time it had grown back

Under my palm,

The iambic beats whispered

"You need not place this new heart in the ground."

I hope ;