AN: This is going to be a bit of a big one to digest, it'll be spread over a few days of updating, so grab a glass of water and enjoy.
To kill is to love
Break down a dove.
(Broken anew.)
To love is to kill,
That slit will pay the tills.
(Oh)Forests of darkness, fading of into abyss - lines of lines of lines compiled against each other.
Lies burdened and comforted in their own graves, easy methods shovel their daisies.
Again. Again. Again.
Again. Again. Again.
Again. Again. Again.To kill is to love
Stab a red, squishy curve.
(Oh)To love is to kill,
Too down to work.
(Hah)Torn apart and ripped, darkened by words, the worlds around us consume us.
Torn us. Ripped us. Blackened our minds. Cast in shadows of nothing, broken by any.Why me?Why me?Why me?
Why me? Why me?Why me?
Why me?Why me?Why me?
To kill is to love
Pricks on the finger form our facade.(Oh)
To love is to kill,
Jetted away, fear of rearing.
(Forgotten and few?)Petty words corrupt our minds, needs and wants confused. Forgotten are our ties? Wreck and rigged through times of need, where has this pettiness come from? Running away from pain of love? But running towards the love of murder, the love of killing? The love of hate? Oh, take this heart and torture me more. Yearning is not enough, forgotten are our memories and few are our knowledge to think of people.
Pathetic. Hung around. Forgotten in sea. Dark, blue mixtures of blackness fill our minds.I still... love you. I still... care for you. I still... imagine about you.
I still... love you. I still... cry for you. I still... have you in my mind.
I still... love you. I still... can't forget. I still...To kill is to love
Throw away love.
(Oh)To love is to kill,
Darkened core, stay away.
(Oh)
YOU ARE READING
Dark yet not 2: Love Book
PoetryUncover the mysteries of love, being loved. Enjoy the experience.