It begins two nights before the 'day.' There is no knife nor sharp object. No this would make the pain easier. Even the use of a dull utensil would be more desired. There is no visible wound nor trace of blood. But the pain wrenches the whole body. The stomach turns and wreaks as it receives it's share of the pain. The back is rippled with pain as it slowly makes it's way around throughout the body. As the 'day' draws near the pain is more intense. The 'day' arrives. The focus is no longer on the day but the 'hour.' The sensation of tearing can be felt throughout the body. He tries to remain strong for he knows that is best. But his strength is being put to the test.
There is no prize, there is no glory, that goes with this story.
For if the truth be told he has to let go, the heart of gold.
So powerless and so much pain. Will not be done in vain. For the future is his gain.
For his delight is the their hearts reunite.
The 'hour' approaches but the focus on the hour is shifted to the 'minute.'
The intensity grows with each tick and magnified by the tock of the clock.
Nothing to bite on not even a sock.
For he is the man and he must remain strong.
The burden is heavy and the haul is long.
For what is being torn apart will be brought back together again. Her eyes are the color of the mountains. His eyes are the color of the sky. This is what it's like when two hearts are torn apart.