If you were a book I would run my hands along your spine. I would read each word Taste you on my tongue Memorize each crease You would be beautiful And I would love you like Eros
If you were a book I would hold you to my arms And carry you in my skin I would become finifugal for your elysian paper Time would freezed like your words on my pale heart Cronos would become vanished from spot You would crept slowly On my hands Fading away tenebrous from heart.
I would decipher your Sorrow and putrid thoughts Become finifugal for your never ending pages You're laconic for me expressing much in few words Lexis would no more epochal.
When I stuck on wrath of summer sun winter snow rescued me. When cacophonous land start crawling inside my mind A pleasant zephyr embraces me in its arms. When the world is decoys on trellised smile A kosher laugh is running on my sheen face.
The mighty ambience is protecting me!! Like Peonys by gardener. The thesis of love is levitating me to move away from havoc.
My chest isn't trapped anymore by Folie à Deux there is a butterflies in my stomach giving a tingling sensation. When Talisman embrace me in arms and a shoulder to rest, that's a P-E-A-C-E I'm living now.
In a state of solitude with his memories and a petrichor which is refreshing my mind. Supine on a land of love and idyll, It isn't perfect what some call but not even messy as a darkest soul. That's a silence I'm living Breath I'm taking.
An instant headshot Killed him. In front of my dragging eyes. His soul shattering I'm unapt to patronage him. My ocean is keep losing a drop day by day. I hope I wouldn't saw that ruthless jiff Or I could succor him. I wish I could. He's died And I am dieing.
I am a victim And I refuse to believe that I can bind my heart again I realize this may be a shock, but Some truthful hopes can heal my soul This is a lie. I shatter my own tenderness heart. In 10 years, I'll tell myself that I have my priorities straight because I am a pale, weak and vacuous Is more important than My potency and strength. I tell you this : I'm victorious and lively. But this won't be true in my era Of dreadfulness and agony They tell me I'm not alive anymore I don't conclude that I can affix my thoughts In the future, I'll deadly alive No longer can said that I'm not victim of my own undeservedly thoughts I'll be evident that I can't live anymore like this It's foolish to presume that I'm not a victim.