Ch 167: Blades of Love.
Failed to be loved,
But never to love.
Heart and soul belonged to one,
Two birds, a pigeon and a dove.
Love was the cancer that killed many,
Yet a beautiful paradise.
Death is eminent by soul or body,
Yet we await the sun to rise.
Love was a knife, strong and sharp,
Yet we cry to bleed in.
The end is carved upon our skin,
Yet we embrace the blade within.