Weep to the sound that once we related to melodies sung by Angels.
Turned out to be my demons that over came me.
You oath to forget
But you still remember
How we dance to that song
How I used to step on your toes
You'd do it back just for fun
Though it hadn't begun
Your anger if I had controlled myself
But would you really blame me
For loving you?
The lyrics merely stated my confession
The feelings that I still have
Forgive me
I didn't mean to hurt you.
That beast, who wrote the song
I blame him.
But Blame, is an orphan.
No one takes out the song from the jukebox.
So he keeps signing.
Claiming more victims...
(Screams)
(cries)
They're playing our song
I am cursed to be in this bar listening to our song asking for another shot,
asking God for another shot.
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Mysteries
PoetryPoetry is a fine way to tell you exactly who I am. And yet, you'd still be clueless. But of course, prove me wrong.
