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 =)
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 =)