The Heart Forsaken

Why then, o my God, have you abandoned me?
Was it not enough I contain myself in sobriety?
I remember the feeling of loss.
As you nailed me to the Holy Cross.

At first you requested the removal of my ears.
So that in the end, I'm the one who no longer hears.
I experienced the pain of a quiet life in solitude.
A life with nothing but myself without water and food.

You then requested the removal of my eyes.
So that I no longer see the coming demise.
I was unable to see and had to rely on smell.
But by now I felt only like that of an empty shell.

You requested the removal of my legs and arms.
So that I was finally a man with no good charms.
I was unable to move, see, or hear.
I couldn't tell the far from the near.

You then requested the removal of my heart.
I agreed because I felt we were already apart.
But I didn't feel a thing when you took.
And I was under the impression I forsook.

But I placed my chin on my chest.
For the thumping that would suggest.
My heart remained in its cavity.
Even though I lost sense of gravity.

I asked you to destroy me, God.
But you took everything with a nod.
And you told me that if I was smart,
Then I'd learn to perceive with my heart.