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I'm hurt.
Yes, I'm hurt. I'm mourning the dead inside me. All the tranquiling pleasures sprinting through my veins are now dead.
My eternal attributes are the prima facie proof of the dead me. Sorrows has retunded and flushed the endless smile on our faces.
Friends? Friends vained away, nothing left. But only the scattered broken pieces of the so called loving heart.
Yes, I'm broken. My sadness has born their new baby "happiness". I'm dead.
My feelings are tombstoned and dated a ceremony not for remembrance but for celebration.
They've raped my success because My happiness is murdered. Only the first born child of mine "dream" is left. Hope My love let's nurture our first born, hopefully she will breed success.
My eternal attributes are the prima facie proof of the dead me. Sorrows has retunded and flushed the endless smile on our faces.
Friends? Friends vained away, nothing left. But only the scattered broken pieces of the so called loving heart.
Yes, I'm broken. My sadness has born their new baby "happiness". I'm dead.
My feelings are tombstoned and dated a ceremony not for remembrance but for celebration.
They've raped my success because My happiness is murdered. Only the first born child of mine "dream" is left. Hope My love let's nurture our first born, hopefully she will breed success.
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