Sometimes the eyes speak volumes where your lips stay sealed. You look back at the scars that just won't heal. As real as a baby to their mother's breast. You face your trails and overcome your tests. The best often walks by as the day grow cold. Her name on your lips tends to get old. Bold are your actions which shows the world she's your prize that with a heavy cost. Now you wander helpless and lost, tossed through the waves your soul doesn't surrender. Your heart torn to pieces like it was greeted by the blades of a blender. The smell of her skin still sticks on your body. The taste of her lips like intoxicating toddy. Often you wonder how long has it been. She was your desirable sin. Like kin she remained reminiscent and lasts. Like a moment of pleasure for very long she now remains your past. The task of letting go isn't very easy, holding makes you fall to your knees. You know she was your remedy to this disease. Her voice my refuge her touch my heartbeat. Her absence is my sorrows as I shiver between the breeze. She wears a title which isn't of mine, she isn't around to have me catch her tears she cries. Love is a funny little notion, it's not the cliché old potion. Tis a story with tales of a past, tis the key to the scars behind the mask.
Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks
