With holes of pain coving my soul,
It's hard to believe I have taken interest in one,
With the weight of guilt and attraction upon my mind,
The weight so unbearable,
Contemplating sins of a personal belief,
Trying to forget one so unforgettable,
It's becoming a painful disease that I can't cure,
And the memories are a killer because there is a history,
A history of nothingness and blankness,
We were always just there,
How did this happen?
With my life of pain and emptiness,
How could one show me the light and darkness in life without realizing it?
The venom of the thoughts are murder,
I can't stay away, but I feel I must.
With this embedded in my mind,
I lay away, imagining a world of perfection,
Just the one and me.
But, its an impossibility.
In the end, it's a fantasy only enough to destroy ones life.
