Between these sheets is pure skin and bones
All that's left of we
My chest is aching for your touch
So willingly
But what is love if it can 't be set free?
Is it just "meant to be" ?
The casualty of this great loss will never let me be.
I run and run on a continuous treadmill in fear of what will become of me.
The loveless love that you have provided leaves me both infested and divided.
You leave your mark, plant your seed only to watch me bleed and deplete.
Now I guess you can leave, just walk away.
The mission is now complete.
This casualty is one for the ages, one for the books, so please take note and beware of his capturing hook.