Our love was a flame but all the tears put it out.
The smoke blurred our sight
and the ash bound us like shackles but still we don't fight against the smothering that blinds us.
We're burnt up, burnt down, burnt out on love. So let the rain wash away all the past, all the ashes, all the pain of yesterday, till there's nothing left of us.
We had the world and thought our loves flames would fuel us to fly
but in the end it's the very reason that we died.
-XoLastNightoX
YOU ARE READING
A Little Book Of Poetry
PoesíaPoets of a life of mountains. Amazing highs and impossible lows All summed into words, simple tokens of every step forward or back. Hope you can relate.
