The yellow and frayed eternal pages Are crying, just with ink, still of the same. The years turn to words and seem like ages Of grief in such a thin and subtle frame.
A Story Without An End "Me, love and you... Three halves of something whole, If one is missing, everything is clear." These words can paint the sorrow in my soul,
Associations My days remind me of the endless autumn rain, The fascinating, charming melancholy. The sky is crying for my bitter loss - The loss of one hour's eternity.
My pen is bleeding on the paper, As love is bleeding in my heart. Each word's the bare truth - Put these words to music, Play this music on the strings of my soul,
For every wrong step that you take I pierce your heart thrice on a bender. However, my fury is fake. You bleed your remorse - I surrender. My sharp poignant words of no shame