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wounds-of-love

Wounds Of Love…

Caught in the whirlpool of dreamers,
Around us, fantasy keeps escalating,
With nothing but fear consumers,
We embrace the endless time of loving.

We thought we were meant to be,
That our future was foreseen,
That we’re the only ones to ever see,
What true love really means.

At first, it started out great,
It was too good to be true,
It was more than just a date,
It was simply me and you.

But too soon we loved,
And too late we knew,
That our time was shoved,
When our love was still new.

With the value of us misjudged,
We had to pay the price,
Misery was created,
Along with a love dice.

The dice recklessly thrown,
And falls hard does the first mistake,
To us it is shown,
Love can’t be forcibly made.

To begin, our feeble trust strains,
To continue our love evolves into hate,
To remain our last hope drains,
And to end, we sadly blame fate.

Though it’s easy to pretend,
What’s the point of it then?
Can the guilty really mend,
As time repeats again?

Our love is a dying patient,
Suffering undeniable pain,
Reading the doctors diagnoses,
Saying there’s nothing to be gain.
Our love was left to mime,
And only reminisced as the ashes of us,
Despair commits the perfect crime,
And tricks us into broken trust.

And even though we say,
We want to love evermore,
Inside we crave each day,
To get away from the love that sores.
Ensnared by the truth and lies,
Lost in the subway of eternal vow,
The pleasure of loving cries,
Where do we go now?

We gambled our love away,
Thinking we could last,
Instead we both strayed,
And kept wishing for the past.

We hurt each other too much,
By loving too quick to last,
With our hope still in miseries clutch,
We pray that this would end fast.

Now we wish for everything to be,
The way they use to be,
But unfortunately, it will never be,
The way we’ve always wanted it to be.

We swim in unbearable pain,
A polluted pool of us,
We’re both going so insane,
Our love evaporating like cold dust.

The simplicity of us,
The complexity of love,
The innocence of ones lust,
The mistake from up above.
There’s no comfort in the truth,
Pain is the heart you buy,
Glasses breaking the silent soothe,
Knowing our love will soon die.

Realizing truth hurts,
We part as dying friends,
Realizing this hurts,
We part hoping love mends.

Maybe it’s better this way,
Because we hurt each other so,
With all the things we want to say,
We just have to let it go.

Wounds too deep to heal,
Time too short to see,
What we really wanted to feel
The meaning of you and me…

© 2012 Pimmi Nag

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