Love hurts, but not like the simplicity of the 5 letter word it is. It feasts on your mind and makes it way down to the heart. Burns your memories, only to play it all back like a magic trick. And at the end of a day, you wish for it to be your last of every days. But love is wicked, it never kills. Taunting your soul, your body knows no hope. Fragile and unaware of what road it may take. Love hurts in many ways. It’s ironic way of making you brave only to say, it was all a mistake. But there’s a naked hope we all fail to hear. A feeling of relief and supreme ecstasy when this roller coaster called love is over. And with all scars and broken hearts we stand high and say “What a lesson to learn”.

A product of disciplinary mounting anger for shameful pleasures.
Saturated by agonizing defeat, plastering the souls of humanity.
Solely for self assurance of days being free, without subsidies replacing traditional beliefs
Nurturing concealed possessions soon to be free
Upon a dynasty we all fail to feel.
But sanity knows of me
And sacrifices taking places of serenity.
Though struggles grow profoundly
An instinct isn’t considered a gift

Management of a heart becomes
Futile by the loftiness of emotions
Claiming blessings upon its actions
For only sins are formed,
And precautions take shelter under disrelish of a soul.

For whom, must one seek comfort from
When filiation has not cavort upon its own
And insanity feeds bigly, the needs for love.

But time swirls in wonders,
And doing right becomes heavier
Leaving ashamed the stature of being here.

I have nothing more to pour
The universe has began to change
And what we all grew comfort to has become distant
Confusion of what and where one should go has beautified itself
Some are pouring, but I have nothing more to pour
I know of love and I know of hate, I know of regrets and I know of free will.
But I’m bare.
Empty.
With nothing more to pour
Gifted with the chance to be delusional of what my happiness will be
But cursed with having nothing more than that
I want to say I’m done, I want to say I have done my best,
But even these words I cannot trust.
I have nothing more to pour and yet life keeps me around
No more free shows I say but pleasing others just seems to be my way
I have nothing more to pour and this life will continue to grow
So why lie about purpose and hope
When without nothing to pour, life still grows.