biRra

It's a cursed fate for a poet, the words slowly add up too fill a sheet with empty sentences just to be thrown away at a certain point, or you keep them and remember the aweful tales of affection leading to heartbreak. Endless mindblock's holding you back from your future, while it is also the reason you're so numb. Searching for grammatical boundries too rise up higher then before, forgetting the fall is so much deeper. But have fate in the inspiration of your surroundings, as they will tell the story of your life.

There was pain in his eyes, there was hate in his soul. He was done with all the lies, he was done with the sorrow. He was naive and didnt see through you, And when he did it was to late. He experienced so much, gained nothing. Gave it his best but just wasnt enough to get through. It was to much for him and he lost his destination. The dreams he had faded. The rush, the pain and the drugs, It was all to much. He hoped he achieved more, but he knew the truth. It was over.