Blackening.

Black hearts and brittle bones
Dead armies killed by stones.
Just like my heart, broken to pieces
Makes you wonder who's else ceases.

You crushed it,
an ice pick, picking bit by bit.
But you,Standing strong and tall
Making me feel I've just been mauled.

Spare me your sorriness a few months later
Acting like a reckless dictator.
Good night my fallen warrior
As the ice pick rises back to the quarrier.