A City Sorrow Built
motion 3
Hope escapes from the very mouth that consumes
Needless to say pain relapses in cycles
There
might
be
no
point
to
this.
The pain inflicted; the time lost
Deep wounds; cuts that bare to her very bones
There
must
be
no
point
to
this.
Does
it
not
pain
you
to
know
that
our
frail
lips
will
never
meet?, she muttered in the memory of the love now lost.
Unwavering in the wind. Unforgiving.