It would be aesthetic When the bell tinkels, When the clock strikes midnight When the pine tree enlightens The magic wand is swayed; Asking for a non-melacholic, Addressing a sadist to be gay
beguiled me to broken trajectory Neither would I weep nor fall I would not love that person who has it all; the smooth lustre conned loyalty pleasant lies to delightful deception
Repetitive effects follow Bathing deep into hollowness the dark phase previals; Uplifts; Like you might be losing your pace Yet an imaginary pulls your back. When loneliness comes, Antiquity knocks the door. The subdued resurfaced image pricks Healing self enwraps in anxiety
I will miss you still Away from the unfulfilled, Emotions remain perplexed I would draw the line of attention Maintaining safe distance; You will still be my armour Yet I will be your everlasting shield!
solitude. Here, you will be devoid of expectations, hurtful choices or guilty aches. It is a world of unheard whispers, whimsical realization, broken to some and healer to a few. It leaves you right when you least expected to follow, imaginations playing a vitol role while the wrecked heart ardens with the inanimate
Serendipity lost consciousness Even when euphoria remains, the taker snatches in a jostle. We use terms like broken and hurt, but above all, it is the voidness felt every peak moment.