Drips of tranquility covers even the slittiest form of imperfection
And though our hearts may be restless we seem to push on
Through every blade that's been pierced to sever our well being.
Tempting us to use our spirit of love persuading and misguiding us saying that love is just a feeeling.
But what is love?
how can it be described?
And can we interpret our definition if everyone is hurting?
Is what we've been taught just a way to keep us on a level to not think for ourselves?
Or are we just too afraid to let go of a worldly demise so unforgiving that it will cause us to be ****** from everything and everyone.
Too much is being swallowed in a burning atmosphere we take shots to fill in the pain but feelings are still there .
No matter where you might hide you can't escape from being doomed from the destruction history has caused and may it will be repeated.
From earth to stars space to beyond we have questions to be asked and many run
Due to the majority of how much darkness has overwhelmed the light of the sun.