There's a story to be told by the young and the old.
All share the same heart, they say.
But something happened to believe they're apart.
The young quiver with fear and the old strike with vengeance.
A young girl believes she can survive without love.
Whatever caused her to adapt this protective role?
The secrets she holds will seem to be hers forever.
Never will you break her protective mode.
And never will she trust for fear of being conquered.
How can I help if she hates me so much?
Will I ever know what created the hate?
I close my eyes and pretend she's not there.
The promiscuity I remember,
The ludeness and rudeness I hear with my ears.
The shame I feel because I know she's not mine.
But the heart, they say, are shared by us both.
A wee girl rocks and another will cry
for the fear of the stories they hold within.
The rocking soothes a lonely heart
And the rocking wipes away the violent images locked in her mind.
Rocking takes the place of the arms that never comforted
And rocking numbs the pain of the violence she's bore.
how can I help, if she hides from me?
The guilt I feel for not being the one.
What secret does she hold, and how can she trust?
She's protecting someone, but the secret caused pain.
Will the release of that secret bring to her more pain?
I want to help, but we're miles apart.
But the heart, they say, are shared by us both.
Another cries, but tries to be strong.
This was her purpose, to be strong when her friend became weak
This child of 10 needs love and affection
She needs to feel clean and the pain soothed away.
The shame I feel because I fear to reach out.
The pain I feel for the suffering she's endured.
Can I touch the blood soaked image of her hair in the mirror?
Can I wash the blood stained face of this image I see?
My God, what secrets does she hold and I tremble to know?
With knife in hand, what does she search for?
Surely not a heart, they say, shared by us both.
A woman, older that her years, fights to survive.
The failure of her task will bring death to the young.
She's a strong willed Lady and will fight for their cause.
But tire her down and her battle is gone.
She will stand and guard, watch over and soothe.
But never will you see this lady reach out.
She believes there's no comfort in extended arms.
And fears the failure of a love gone wrong.
Love comes from the heart and her heart cries with pain.
To reach them and touch them, hold them and comfort them.
Will only bring more pain to their hearts.
This the heart, they say, that is shared by us both.
Decisions, he says, are made by the man.
If this is the way, then why the confusion?
Very controlled and forever deep in thought.
He will always decide how to bring peace to the hearts.
What secrets does he hold and why death the solution?
Why always the fighting to live or to die?
Could this heart, they say, possibly be shared by us both?
The Army is strong and their task is to kill.
To kill on the orders of their highest of rank.
There must be a secret they hold within.
Why else would the order come to kill all the hearts within?
He lives in the war, the war he created.
And drawn them all in as his enemies and foes.
Why does he fear his secret come out?
Why does he fear any secret come out?
He will die if the order is not done.
Others will die, if he is successful.
Can this heart, they say, be shared by us both?
The young and old hold all their own stories.
Could it possibly be, if this shared heart were to survive
The stories would have meaning and the body have life?
