The Love

Your heart crumples like paper,
As you wonder on the later
Of the perfect day just before.

And the memories they haunt the.
In the corners of the rooms, on the pathways in the city,
In every house they choose.

Then we all do wonder,
How we became so forgetful,
Of the power that we loved.

Internally we are in pieces,
Broken, rusted, only a frame.
We need be replaced by something more.

Longing for the freedom,
Peace and no despair.
Perfect is not what we deserve.

Love

We do not need it, only feel it.
A gaping hole inside the chest.
Hardy lethal. Not abnormal.

Not forever, only 'till your life ends.
Memory and picture did not capture,
The love that is felt.

Till death comes,
Eternal night falls and
We decay.