The Heart of a Woman

It’s tender, so tender;
Just like the heart of a baby,
It knows no guile,
It keeps no evil,
It was made to nurture,
To foster and to care,
A gift from heaven,
The heart of a woman.

It’s fragile, so fragile,
Easily broken and hurt,
Due to its nature so trusting,
It easily falls prey to prowling predators,
If only men would treat it with tenderness,
Caring for it like the pupil of their eyes,
A rare gift yet easily broken,
The heart of a woman.

It’s treacherous, so treacherous,
It spits death like the fangs of a snake,
Handle with care or get bitten with death,
Vengeance to it is like sipping water,
Especially when betrayed beyond she can bear,
Relentlessly seeking justice to an extreme,
Take care before you make a stab at it,
The heart of a woman.

So many things it can be at once,
It can be loving now, yet cruel in a flash,
Sweet now but calculating as well,
Gentle in an instant, a roaring lion the very next,
Only those who come with good intents,
Can enjoy the miracle within the pumping organ,
The heart of a woman.

Nations have been made through its beauty,
Nations have fallen under its craftiness,
Men have arisen due to its love,
Generals have died due to its jealousy,
Paupers made king because of it,
Kings turned pauper for neglecting it,
So alive, so dead,
So in love, so hateful,
The irony of a woman, who can know,
The heart of a woman.

A weapon of war, an instrument of peace,
A channel of love, an ochestrator of evil,
When loved it makes alive,
When angered its fluids are deadly,
The wisdom of man can never comprehend,
How so complex such a simple organ is,
Show me a man who was able to know,
How exactly to steer her heart,
Without even a moment of trepidation,
The dark belly of a place called Sheol,
That’s where such a man resides.

I’ll handle with care,
I’ll thread with caution,
I’ll touch with feeling,
I’ll nurture so gently,
For the beauty within a woman’s heart,
Is more than enough to build destiny.