My shadow love resents me for I hurt her so much
That she walks the gaping distance to a home she never had
Passing by coloured houses and trees of yellow limes
She breathed in the freezing air of the coldness in my heart
I gifted her the honesty of confession from my mouth
And the letters in arrangement made a story full of hearts
At the end of the sentence is the blood of a broken heart
But the pain that supposed to happen, it never really came
And I ask her the third time if it was really love
Maybe it is all just made up like the world I made of clouds
She said, "No, I am certain. I liked that little doll. ---
..But the pain turned to pleasure for my little paradise.."

I guess some love are meant to be broken
to patch the little cracks
My heart is now made up of metals
locked with its sacred scars.