Without your warmth, it felt so hollow,
Perchance, in many years to follow.
Even love itself tear us apart,
Language of heaven means to restart.
For some exclusive reasons, I wished,
To have you as my only fine gift.
Now, in this apathetic world,
Our love is the one I wouldn't hurled.
But faith seemed to be truly unfair,
To this horror and this pain we share.
If only rain shower us a chance,
I'd still dance with you in this romance.
YOU ARE READING
Adoring Her Still
Poetry"You need to be happy even if I'm out of your reach." -His point of view-
