He said it wasn’t.
Said it was madness.
Obsession.
Poison.
But I knew.
It was love.
Just as life and death
touch in a breath,
so do lies and truth
blur in the darkness.
Only this boundary remains to be broken:
what separates love from hate.
And when it falls...
only we will remain.
In the purest form of loving
without redemption.
YOU ARE READING
illusions
Poetry"This is where I write down my thoughts and ideas about various topics that pique people's curiosity."
