|Source: Google Images|
It believes my heart is a sight,
Cold as ice, and black as night.
It’s not my heart, only my soul,
But killing me is its goal.
It is getting close for me to know,
I really don’t want that far to go.
Soon I’ll reach my end,
It’ll have my soul, to tear and rend.
It didn’t cared for my grief,
But I won’t let go my strive.
I can’t face the bitter truth,
I must keep up, my pretense of youth.
I'm a Write Tribe pro Blogger.
Thanks for stopping by, I read each and every comment. Share your thoughts before leaving...