These last few words I write to you, not of rage not of sorrow, but for pain I do admit, I'll have no love to share for tomorrow, The straw that broke the camel's back you hold between your teeth, and you dare know in provocation, smearing an insult at me. As I search deep within the hearts of man, the only essence of love I do find, is the love for love when pain erupts but in times of peace they're fine. The sorrows of a broken heart does seem to break the seal, for in times of hurt, darkness and despair, we ourselves become most real. Take it from a man with a broken heart, tho my pen works all the same, when you read I hope you feel my passion but never endure my pain.
