So what of those who aren't sought
Or the ones afflicted with eternal solitude
Where do our hearts go or rather hide
We are the refugees of this so called euphoria
An enigma so potent known as love

We are those not wanted by it
The unchosen and not desired
It chases us away like we're rats
Forcing us to scurry for cover
When all we want is to be fed

We've been shut out of it's presence
Like we are unworthy vagabonds
Sleeping on an empty cold floor
Crying ourselves into slumber
Only to be orphaned again tomorrow

Hunters come back to haunt
who doesn't exist,
his ghost is still penetrating
through her shallow mind,
for a thousand years of playing knives,
she left there, undesired.

She thought "that would be enough"
it would be his revenge or punishment,
her vial was empty but he was a bloodlust,
words could cut and anguish could be unbearable,  but tears will run dry.

The days turn into dust;
those memories she recollect
if he is seem to love again
maybe, she will find her faith
and her place.

She lost in darkness with broken dreams
she knew, it will only leads her to death;
Why do people keep coming back
on those things they left behind?

and really, love is the absolute worst, is it not ?