UnrequitedBreakfast

If I could corrupt myself a little more, To erupt with such emotions should I swear, A little bit of guilt slowly tear, The room though, it reeks of amore. Fond are the embrace of which are forbidden, Of pictures and scenes which we had given, As I selfishly lust for more to liven, Then I kept all my emotions hidden. It lingered inside the depth of my head, Of memories which are fond to me on the bed, Though how truthful can it be to turn red, Are the words you said, you meant that to date. I will slowly wonder and wait as I walk, Somehow though, I believe you won't talk.

Pray and pray hard for the strength to keep it in, For that which does not provoke should not lean, Against the back of the tree whereby faith and honour stands tall, Never should one have to hide their pride behind these walls. Of that which should not mention for long, Hidden within the lyrics of a broken song, Whereby its melody would not recite depth, Still there is one of which sounds like a hep. Until the day whereby the lyrics are forged, And excuses and reasons are dodged, For there is no matter left to seek, And deep slumber would such secrets leak. Awake and again for reasons unknown, Till the end of the days where man walks alon

Never show, never know, Where will all these questions go, Doubts and answers have a line, Where the definition of good and evil is so fine. When pure and tainted dives within, Which side does my moral lean, Comes the question on what to do, To avoid the answer of a fool. When faced with questions and answers would lie, Just how much further will you try, To understand what goes beyond, First the heart has to be torn. After which voices sing again, Of all the love songs written in vain.

The tulip with its withering petal, Would fall amongst the giants, Where much of such wandering it yearns, To resolve these lonely mettle. Whenceforth the rain would seep, Through the windows of this lonely house, Of air and resolve would be purely ours, Till the last drop of euphoria each sips. Given towards the inch of an inch, Closer towards our husk, Whereby its peak we reach its lust, The final inch is pinched. Where the wind would willow through the lonely hour, Soon these peaches would turn sour.

I kept rereading and rereading and rereading this quote, That asked us this question, "to which God should we vote?", For beliefs that coincide with dangerous lies, As temptation's unfortunately sprint would pause as time flies. For I was able to dissect my pain, If only they knew that this love was in vain, Throughout my dreams I would pause and as I wait, How long before these lust and temptation lay dead. To be kept beyond this border of house full of lies, I know that soon we should severe our ties, But before I walk away from all that I cherish, with you in this life, Perhaps a future without you would ensure I thrive. If soon I still

Aware of December where the petals grow, To soon hear the flowers that slowly grow old, Advancing the month we slowly bold, Beneath the grow where our beliefs lay low. Sparking an interest of which we can thrive, Of ego and narcissistic pride that are alive, To grow bolder like the bees in a hive, Into further descend upon our naivety dive. Tell us a story of where we will go, Of old stories upon the ages untold, Behind these graves we each leave a note, And full confidence on each God that we may vote. Where lies would slumber and peace would sleep, How far will faith be when we each take a leap?

That is not the kind of life that you want, To wander and lust, These feelings will rust, As you disappoint the only one. Still you cannot help it, To know and to fear, To lose that which you hold dear, But this lust you still feed. As I embrace my emotions, I pack up my feelings and left, To prevent my heart from further theft, Or so I fake a notion. If you still remember me then can you hear my plead, And answer my question on how my life I ought to lead...

Perhaps it was foolishness, To think of you anew, If I only knew, That you placed him first. Or perhaps it was your shadow, That lingered in the light, Soon to fade out of sight, As my heart beats slow. How is it like to fall in love, Or so I think I am, Though my heart be damned, For I was only served. I fell in love with a ghost, To which my love did not bear host.

I think that ever so often when I look ahead, Towards the middle where my future lay dead, An awkward silence would hit the room, As I pronounce my life's true gloom. I turn my head to hear you speak, But as I turn, instead a squeak, I thought I might have heard it wrong, But through the squeak comes out a song. With lyrics written sad beyond the sky, As I muse through the melody, I sense the tears from an eye, I look at you from the side, Just so these tears I can hide. Why do I bother to love again, When all love does is to give me pain.

As flowers bend, Like withered spoon, As they howl out at the moon, These, my stories I shall pen. These would be my passage, Of poor judgement and tattered light, That which lust still has its plight, Slowly this lust would take its age. Still the line I draw to seek, Slowly pursuing its end, Of all the aged outburst I vent, My feelings are so meek. In time I hope to cleanse it all, Before you my feelings fall.