He nurtured his love
as a delicate flower,
thought of it as from above,
like an allmighty power.
But love is not for one,
Could it ever be?-
She shot it with her gun
looking in the face of thee.
Time passed--
,and was wiping love's core
he felt the same,never more.
The heart with bullets was filled,
she remained near, to see if it is killed.
Emotional funeral,
Burial of thy heart,
she was standing there,
still beautiful like art.
She played the last card-
Glowing over 'its' grave,
she gave the last look
and with gentle hand,the last wave.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 10:53 AM UTC
He nurtured his love
as a delicate flower,
thought of it as from above,
like an allmighty power.
But love is not for one,
Could it ever be?-
She shot it with her gun
looking in the face of thee.
Time passed--
,and was wiping love's core
he felt the same,never more.
The heart with bullets was filled,
she remained near, to see if it is killed.
Emotional funeral,
Burial of thy heart,
she was standing there,
still beautiful like art.
She played the last card-
Glowing over 'its' grave,
she gave the last look
and with gentle hand,the last wave.
