Nights when only the crimson moon shines its tattered face, I dream faint escapes- cravings I seem to possess no control over.
Still images, water like in vision- display a beautiful sadness of your image.
Etched deep of sorrow filled sunsets, Longing for the faintest of touch.
Held lightly- the crystal heart which engulfs the inside of my being.
Never do I speak of these impurities, for fear has become of me.
Lost in shadow, never has the heart of one’s being lay but a lonely ache.
Alone.
The trenches of time’s drain have since solidified the broken crystal.
Healing only the amount strong enough to continue a long, pointless journey into perpetual solitude.
-Legacies of Lost Love
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Comments
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<3 With Love <3
ahhh...now, I'm going to take my single self out to gorge in sorbet!
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-In Vino Veritas-
There's this awsome soycream thats peanut butter!
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I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend you till death your right to say it.
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