I have been feeling this, hole
Endless hole somewhere in my torso
It feels like vaccum,sucked out of life
And now a void resides in there.
And the echoes of morning mayhem goes on.
I am selfish maybe, I can't see
How I torture, souls and minds
Now this void,pays me back
I push and pull the strings
Of hearts, constricting them
I inflate and deflate those little beings
Maybe I should be called another fatal heart disease.
I am some kind of vicious cycle
Which draws you in and destroys
And you say I deserve better.
Maybe yes, I deserve better lies
Better false promises,
Better heart wrecking encounters
You can't give me those.
Because flowers surround thorns,
And even if it pricks, it stays there
Stubborn, getting wounded with every set of breeze.
It stays.
And thorn is sharp,it hides behind the flower, takes shelter and pricks it until weak and torn.
That's how it goes on.
The flower withers away and blooms again,but thorn remains the same
Sharp,cold,lifeless