Twisted Tale

I stood there,

For as long as time could pass,

Each moment and each second.

There is something about you,

That makes me pick up every broken pieces of me,

And tried to mend it back slowly.

I’ve heard that the eyes is the window of the soul,

But your soul I can’t decipher.

I saw the way it glint,

And that amusing hint of voice that follows.

Out of misery, I would smile.

Your shadow passes through me,

Something I can’t catch.

Your life starts of a white canvas,

Painted vibrant but turning dull.

Those forsaken look,

If only I could went back time,

And look at the innocent boy you were once,

I would hold you tight and let that crystal flow,

I would take away that pain and gave my joy.

Alas,

Life is not ours to begin with.

The path we are in now,

Is full of despair and disappointment.

Full of sounds of broken hearts and broken spirits.

The canvas is torn and purity tainted.

Picking up broken pieces meant nothing,

If by the end of the day we bleed from it.

Fates entwined,

Treads tangled.

Tears spilled,

Frustrations enlarged.

But you managed to pull me through,

Through the darkness, through the wreaked.

Against the possibility,

Against the stream of negativity.

Transcends normality.

Henceforth,

The twisted tale.

Origin: A side effect from reading my friend's (eleena) stories & John Green's.
Time: 17/01/2014
Dedicated to: A close friend of mine =)