What we see and what we hear is never simple,
each syllable a figment of your own stark imagination,
the waves that lap against the shore,
are nothing but a fragmented section in the seeds of time,
Love whispers softly in your ear,
but don't listen to the sweet serenading voice,
this voice will lie to you,
Love doesn't even exist.
Pain will be inflicted upon those who listen,
their hearts will be turned to dust in a split second,
Angels will even turn against them,
there eyes scream a pain so livid.
The imagination is powerful,
each image fractured in the brackets of your brain,
images of him or her, are conceived here,
this is where you are tricked.
you think you will be happy with him,
You long to be confined in her presence,
lies are seeping past the lips of the wicked,
forgotten dreams are mesmerized here.
Do not let it trick you,
block out the enchanting voice,
live in the confines of a four corner room,
then the world can't hurt you.
