Flowing from nowhere and for no visible reasons the smiles just refuse to fade. Like draught beer from a fountain. The reasons wait much deeper. Some for its sheer pleasure and, some for things much darker. None is wrong. In their own right ways. For their own correct reasons.
A chest-full of molten paroxysm to sleep with, he finds solace in the darkness of the night. Of so much comfort is the vacuum of love. Something he has it all for himself. And, will never lose. The smiles are merely a dry run for things to fake. To mislead. A world that don’t understand it.
The end of the tunnel is merely an excuse for weaker hearts. There doesn’t exist one. The world is the tunnel and there are lights within it. One merely has to discover them in the darkness within. For the lights that lies beneath. Like the joy contents in the tears that we sadly cry.
A chest-full of molten paroxysm to sleep with, he finds solace in the darkness of the night. Of so much comfort is the vacuum of love. Something he has it all for himself. And, will never lose. The smiles are merely a dry run for things to fake. To mislead. A world that don’t understand it.
The end of the tunnel is merely an excuse for weaker hearts. There doesn’t exist one. The world is the tunnel and there are lights within it. One merely has to discover them in the darkness within. For the lights that lies beneath. Like the joy contents in the tears that we sadly cry.
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