Lies that are spoken from loved ones mouths,
Seems to be all there is anymore.
And this unrequited love,
Burns me in the pit of my soul.
There is no love,
But a flower yet to be blossomed,
A story yet to be told,
But no paper to tell it on,
And no love to keep it growing.
No words, spoken.
And yet it lives on, this world,
Even though we are broken.
Because beneath those lies is love,
A love stronger than the lies that it is bound to,
A love deeper than the ocean who's waves crash with no sound.
And it is always there, waiting,
As the story moves forward,
As the flower blooms on,
It is there, waiting.
Waiting for the moon and the stars to say their goodbyes,
Waiting for the sun to kiss you on your forehead good morning,
Because it is love,
And love itself, rules the world.
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