Tournament Of Heart Poem by Phillip Knight

Erode and eradicate
Disdainful thoughts.
Rust this love into submission,
Shallow lust and its Hierarchy,
In which you have placed yourself so high,
Penetrating my passions with sinister taunts.
How I hate what I have become,
Emotionless chew toy,
Rubber soul and hollow eyes.

First I came to you in need,
Body upon body I wept into your arms
As you soothed the pain of a lifes regrets,
Soon using this weakness against me.
I fall to the floor,
And you Tower above me,
Building me up and breaking me down.
I become your building block tower,
No longer with colour,
Cold and wooden,
Faceless and fearful.