A withered flower
like your love.
A heart that is tired and broken,
between us only dispute
fractures, and indifference.
I would throw that flower
give me a fresh flower
I know that with broken bones
I come out of this story.
In front of the broken and old mirror
in the middle of an ancient castle
I pray, I cry and preach
the end, the beginning, change.
Stop!
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 4:14 PM UTC
A withered flower
like your love.
A heart that is tired and broken,
between us only dispute
fractures, and indifference.
I would throw that flower
give me a fresh flower
I know that with broken bones
I come out of this story.
In front of the broken and old mirror
in the middle of an ancient castle
I pray, I cry and preach
the end, the beginning, change.
Stop!
