The loved who do not love,
And the lovers who are not loved,
Sing songs of sorrows
With prayers from above.
The past is intangible, we cannot deny.
The hurt seems to linger instead of just die.
The suffering is an eternal hell
With every sin made.
Hope is no longer an asset,
And weak form from the brave.
My only friend is deceit.
My heart blackening with each throbbing beat.
I have caused so much suffering,
Yet you fail to see,
That I am with you,
But your pain comes from me.
If you forgive me for all my sins,
I'll still be crying from the punishment found within.
: regulator7@rocketmail.com
