A thing I want to say
on this cold day
is that my life
is like molding clay.
How do people ****
the purest of love?
Doesn't it hurt,
the pain in the nerve?
"For better or for worse,
'till death do us apart"
Words are enough
to break my heart.
Did everything for you.
Still why me? I ask.
But my love was stored
in a shattered flask.

The depth of her eyes.
The color of her hair.
Black.
Unseen. But it's there.
Like love,
Like my heart.
Like the blood entering it.
Like the nights,
When we're together,
When we're not.
Like the fights,
When we break,
And again tie the knot.
Black.
Like the silence.
Like the chaos.
Like the calmness of the storm
That she was.

I saw the pain in her eyes
and heard the unheard cries.
Could't tell her to let go,
pain and sorrow were already sowed.
She got physically attached
without touching him even once.
Time slows down in pain,
and in bliss it runs.