The reason for living is misconstrued
We sit and put are lives in the hands of a sinner
But kiss the same lips for bliss
While they torture our hearts
Slowly crushing it constructing are death
Isnt that a blissful death
A death constucted for the exact time
Why kiss the lips of a sinner
While we turn are lives to hell
Loving the heart of a archangel
While are angel is in the mist
Why leave everything to a sinner
Why not wait for are angels bliss?
YOU ARE READING
Your My Pandoras Box
Poetrythis is the second book to life is its own paradox another poem book but itll have more then one style in this one
