At the call of the one who remember's their dead lover
one is alive despite being dead
the perishable body shall only hold onto a few years
while the consciousness will continue for decades
I shall never cease until every ounce of love Ive shared has dried like leaves.
Staring at the ruined canvas with colours she detest and forms she'd never digest to view any longer, she slathered fresh hues to cover...
let it flow through you, acknowledge it, the suffering shall also have place in your thoughts now Eventually will give root to wisdom and...
As much as love heals It also breaks when it leaves The love won’t leave But the wound will heal It’ll pain But it won’t be the same
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