"Weight"

One hundred cups of medicine so bittersweet would take one thousand years before the shell around his heart would think to crack.

With each passing year another coat of blood weighs him down, and it would not surprise him if his heart cease to beat; like the shadows of Pompeii, a cast of what has passed away.

From shattered lives and broken wings something deep within his soul still stirs, heavily lined with that he refuses to shed.

Were it not so, the shell around his heart would cease to grow.

Perhaps then he could forget that birds, and men all bleed red.

Inspired by Shin volume three, chapter eight, "Double Exposure".

Written for the PSoH Drabble community on LJ.

Challenge #265 Just a Verb

Word count: 103

Three over the limit, but I just couldn't bring myself to reword a passage off by so little.