sweet words like gentle kisses were often spoken into the deep abyss of the darkness.
as if the night could guard the words spoken.
the feeling of pure love is fleeting, for the day is sure to come the next morning.
not one word is uttered, memories of the past are forgotten.
as if it all were merely just a dream.
desire builds up, hoping that one day it’ll be different.
yet the day slowly fades into the night which then blossoms into day.
nothing changes, the hope, sadness, and frustration remains,
and the cycle starts over once again.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC