"The love we had,
The love we had,
We had to let it go..."
What's love
but a sharp knife that runs through one's
soul
like it were a wounded animal's
bone?
What's love
but a piercing wind that pounces upon
your eyes
with the mischevious intention of
corrupting the mind?
What's love
but an ivory ghost that wanders in the present,
with rags of bloody past and craving a better
future?
What's love
but a lie concocted by our own lips
to make some order
in this blue chaos
we call "bliss"?
What's love
but a song for the deaf,
a movie made by the blind,
a poem for the speechless
and the legacy
of mankind?
What's love
but the sweetest of sins,
the most perfect dream,
the Universe compressed
into a heartbeat?
What's love
but our reason to live?
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