As the hurt pack the pieces of their scorned heart into the bowl of shame, heavens opened up a shower of spite to hasten the laundry.

What happens when two hearts refuse to blend like pepper and tomatoes inside a grinding machine? What happens when one heart is meshed into another but the other refuses to mesh into the one?

What happens when emotions is washed like a dirty cloth worn by children having played in the dirt?
What happens when love is sullied; hearts smeared with filth and souls taken for granted?