![]() |
Not till now had I known, that true scars, were deep cuts on the heart, |
| I had been cursed with eyes that had seen fare few evil, That taunted, and plagiarized with my mind, Not till now had I known, that true scars, were deep cuts on the heart, Given, taken and abstraction, to a life without it's melody, Caused from such little grief, A pain that strength could not heal. I am not the path in which you can choose, But a stool, that sits in it's place, A fathom dunked in ivory, Saturated from love, Wherefore did I see such enemy. A curve not rounded, nor squared, Or any color the rain has shined Such beauty, but paced in elegant light, ... I sit here... yes, Pondering that same very thought. |