a small kid huddling under the covers, wondering when they will break down the door and when you will meet your end.
and Hope with her innocence wings flew away, away.
her raven hair was torn away, splattered red.
love doesn’t come easy.
this is all i have.
i dislike eros (cupid)..
in the end, aren’t we all copies of the same person, just molded in different manners?
the past is the foundation of the future. what use is the past if we simply forget?
they dream of the End.
a rose blooms with love and care, while a rock is formed through weather and tear