My love, return to me. Return to me the very second you might think it, ever. As my patient heart remains almost as you left it. I've kept it safe, but what happens to the heart when love has taken exit?
It's the same as if you take an egg yolk out of the shell. Though only a thin and fragile barrier, the egg sheol keeps it's insides held together and whole. Once it's severed of being whole, the insides are powerless in becoming manipulated by the next who comes along hungry or maybe even mischievous in nature. Changed, cooked, and splattered into endless different forms and endings. So...
Return to me, my love. My shell has from stretches of time been broken. Spilling all that is precious inside. Being beaten, thrown, engulfed in flames! But for now, it's content in its fullness has not yet been changed. precious time only knows when the sand runs nil.
-suedemusic



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