It's because even fairytales
has an end
And no one really knows
what would happen next.

I've been too busy writing my fantasies
that I forgot how to make you my own
in reality.

Leaves aging gray covered with dust,
Iron losing its will to cope up with rust,
Flowers withered losing their lust,
And the hope pulverized by the broken trust.

Days swiftly passing by like a river flowing
To those memories from the days of yore they are holding,
With mournful souls they are living
Each passing day feels like dying.

Not much do they have, still surviving the wave,
Crawling their paths, on which the traces will engrave,
Swallowing the curse and exhibiting the traits of a brave,
Succumbed to temptation, still prolonging their grave.

Holding on to what is still left of them after being broken
With bruises all over - purple and swollen,
Hearing those painful words that remained unspoken
Their hearts lost, stolen.

As love never fades, but grows each season,
People do change, for love is the reason,
It reigns in any region,
*A salvation emerging, shining like a beacon.