When your in love the world is different, it seems as if you own it. The sun never sets, it always rises the weather is sunny and life is just great. You overlook the small things that you dont deem that could ruin the perfect day. The color never drains from your heart until you realize its this figment. All this time it wasnt what you thought, shades of gray pull you from the love of color that doesnt exist anymore. It was that wind that blew too much it was that white cloud that turned black it was the sun set, its raining and now tears flow to let the dwelling of the aching heart that wanted love to last on the world you once adored. The world rears its ugly to show what ruined the perfect day. Love turns to sorrow and confusion of what went wrong. Where do you turn when the love is gone and the world is not yours or was it ever really yours?
