My heart is wounded,
soon I will die.
But I do not mind,
for at least it's back inside.
So long I've been without it,
I barely remember how it works,
but now I can feel it.
I can feel the hurt.
I can feel the remorse,
I can feel the regret,
it hurts deep inside,
but I do not mind.
For it is my conscience,
for once back inside.
I can feel the love,
so long I've gone without.
Oh what have I done to her though?
My darling Regina,
I see now.
I never loved her,
at least not before,
and finally it is rushing in,
I can finally believe in her.
But now it is late,
the clock is striking twelve,
and then I fall.
Maybe she didn't love me after all.
A poem from Cora's point of view about what she felt after getting her heart back. The last line is in reference to the fact that Regina was the one that put the heart back in, and Cora ended up assuming that Regina had done it on purpose because she was fearful for Henry's life. Just a little headcannon.
As usual, I own nothing.