
It hurt me and I poured it out. By writing poetry I saw, there were more than a million ways I had seen your beauty. So pure and so soulful. And now that I know where my heart belongs, I can fight the world for it. Your love itself is a reward, nobody wins, nobody loses. And now that the day is here, I can free myself from you, either by the inevitable death, or love. But you, you'll always be caged in my writings for you have fallen in love with a writer my love. So let's go back in time, to the time unknown, where we were free, before we ever stumbled upon this day. Because this is the day, an artisan bloomed into an artist. This is the day when this writer's throbbing life came to a complete stand still. So if my life is destined to ruin, I accept. If this is how it ends, I accept. If you not loving me back is a rude awakening, I accept. Because my love, is a strange beast. Whip it, starve it, push it deep down in my insides, but you can't pull it out of me.
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