There’s no such thing as love
Only the deprivation of being.
The longing of lucid breathe running down your neck at 3 in the morning.
The passion which seems to be misplaced in someone else’s faith.
Not even your own.
Wanting, searching like the ravenous lion through a jungle of mystery.
This is how I feel.
There’s no such thing as love.
Only the way you made me tingle,
Wrapping your words around me like blanket of comfort.
And soon you ceased to be,
Fading away till nothing, like the ashes of time.
left was the hollow tree which we both carved our names.
And underneath, six feet to be exact, lies our once-ly beautiful story of tragic, love.