Somehow hope believed to be
In a place where none could see
Blinded by their hearts desire
In the ever burning fire
Touches, kisses, glassy ties
All until the feeling dies.
Blinded heart mine turned to be
To confess what I don't see
For my flower died in fire
Whose song turned out to be dire
Scortching heat killing my heart,
Tearing me as were appart.
Why do flowers burn and die
Why the fire's meant to lie?
Why am I to be alone?
When you are the one who's gone...
Your flames do burn
Your word do hurt
Your love of ashes in the wind
My heart a broken mess who sinned
In an ever burning fire
Which began with my desire.
YOU ARE READING
Petals of the Wind
Thơ caWe fear the unknown. We fear ourselves. We fear yet stil we touch, because as hard as we tell ourselves otherwise, we enjoy getting hurt in our own shards of the heart...
