My love for you is blood, and it flows around my body,
it rushes through my veins and my heart is the main source keeping the love pulsing through me.
I begin to tell our story with the typical humour and the warmth that accompanies our love,
we know no one’s adoration can be this tough
and I find the ending is stapled under my tongue,
and I know I can’t bring my-self to admit we are coming undone.

And as Shakespeare said “the course of true love never did run smooth”
And now I understand it stings every time I breathe, every time I think and every time I move,
Is it true? What they say? Are we incompatible,
No, just irrevocable and inevitable