Sinful Writing

I LOVE . . .

I love life.

It made me feel complete as I saw you for the first time.

And I said to myself, "He is the one; he is my man."

I love red.

The color of love--the most wonderful thing in this world.

I think of beating hearts, peaceful meadows, cuddly bears, and you.

I love Cupid.

The god of love, whose twin arrows shot you and me.

Thank you, little cherubim, for heeding my call, once and for all.

I love everything.

So happy, so bright, so full of vibrant light.

Because of you, this darkness is no more and all show beauty.

I love you.

Your eyes, your smile, your voice, your body,

Your beliefs, your gaiety, yourself, all of you, your all.

I love you.

For the love that you can never give back,

And for putting all my efforts into an abyss of nothingness.

I love everything.

For they remind me of you and your selfishness,

This damn Earth is nothing but full of shits, shits, and shits.

I love Cupid.

For he only struck me and failed to struck you.

And now, I suffer because of his carelessness. What a nincompoop.

I love red.

For my visions are full of fiery emotions of anger,

Feeding my soul like an inferno, no love, just evil--just pure evil.

I love life.

For it is nothing but an illusion for all men,

Life is a bitch and I commence it's ending on a hangman's noose.