Translate

Monday, May 21, 2012

Being Fed to Die


I am torn my his face and him,
The one that has tried his hardest to show me his love,
And I am just standing here right in front of him
So close that you can hear his heart beat whisper my name
With the cold air of a harsh winter
Blowing as hard as a hurricane category five
And as fast as a tornado,
With nothing else but lies coming out of my lips,
I feed a heart, just to kill it a few seconds later.



No comments:

Post a Comment