You tell me to go. To leave you behind. But lust dances with my soul To that I find That my heart is a mess Juggling love and rage at best. Finding the right words to confess My lowly state of mind.
She sleeps soundly. Soft moans from fatigue. And I lay here wondering what becomes of me. Do I continue to despair? Or go on without a care? The heart has limits; that I know. Even so, you tell me to go.