No One wins the Game of Pride

A short poem filled with elusive analogies about two prideful people.

Love left to flicker at the play of a switch
Love left to sob behind treasonous veils
Slowly, the world will seep away
'Lest the Lioness keeps her ire at bay
Softly, under Darkness' guise
Those hearts once resentful surpress their cries
And into the interminable tune they delve
To join countless others in the fall;
All too loud is the serenade of sorrow
Shove, but why not kick them by?
For Broken Hearts covet revenge
While angry hearts spit at the sky

But when Broken rebuttal
When shattered pieces turn to grains
Who amongst them sleeps soundly?

As tension crumbles sanctity
And footsteps make her spine crawl,
Apologies melt behind a moment's pride.
But as remorse festers deep within
As they dream to fly away and flee
Everyone wants to share their shoes
And no one wants to take
How much are they willing to see?

Because when Broken rubuttal,
When shattered pieces turn to grains,
None amongst them sleep soundly