Midas heart

The king of old
with a heart so tough,
cold and rigid,
shiny and rough.

Through all his life,
he’d fall in love,
and lead his life,
in the deepest troughs.

And all the hearts
he’d call his own,
would eventually turn
to precious stone.

The broken king
with his auriferous heart,
would break his maidens
and tear them apart.

And everyone he touched,
would freeze in time,
with their souls frozen,
golden, sublime.

This Midas heart
that beat in his chest,
would only ease,
once laid to rest.

So a war he fought,
with Astarte of love,
and lost each battle,
and fell from above; To his death!

And all the kings horses
and all the kings men,
shed tears of joy,
when he returned to them.

Free from the curse
that plagued him in the sun,
he returned to his kingdom
stuffed in an urn.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar

Pen it... or aaa type it. u know what i mean.

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