The cut that always bleeds.

In the silence of the night, when the world is fast asleep, There lies a wound within my heart, a pain I cannot keep. A cut that always bleeds, no matter how I try, A silent cry of sorrow, beneath the moonlit sky. Its edges are jagged, its depth a dark abyss, A constant reminder of the love I sorely miss. No bandage can conceal it, no salve can ease the pain, For every time it heals, it opens up again. The cut that always bleeds, a scar that never fades, An echo of the past, where happiness cascades. It whispers of lost moments, of dreams that went astray, A haunting melody that shadows every day. I try to mask the aching, to hide the crimson stain, But the cut that always bleeds leaves a trail of quiet rain. Its droplets fall like teardrops, tracing paths of woe, A testament to heartache that only I can know. In the corners of my mind, the memories resurface, Each one a piercing blade, with an unrelenting purpose. The cut that always bleeds, a wound that's etched in time, A sorrowful reminder of a love no longer mine. Yet even in the pain, there's a strength that lies within, A resilience born of heartache, a battle yet to win. For though the cut may bleed, my spirit will end