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Throughout time,
love has been blind.
Love can be both beautiful,
and ugly.
Love is like a delicate flower,
only beautiful until it dies.
Once that light escapes from our chests,
ripping our hearts out with it,
we realize how empty we are inside,
the darkness grasping us.
No love is ever pure,
no stars align for any two souls,
no flowers bloom in the winter,
burried, they simply fold.
Inside us all,
lies somthing that we never want.
Darkness surrounds us day and night,
and it tears us apart.
 Xx-DevilsNeverCry-xX · Sun Jun 29, 2008 @ 02:49am · 0 Comments |
