A delicate butterfly, a fragile vase.
Love is that demon that laughs in our face.
Acting so shy, like a warm summer breeze,
Drifting through our hearts, the grass and the trees.
All of this is a mask... love is nothing worth seeing.
Its true self is a hellish sadistic being..
It is quite sad knowing the true nature of this creature.
Of this sad and lonely spector, I will be your teacher.
It tricks its victims minds and controls their actions
Makes its way into my heart, that weak contraption.
It clings to a person and never lets go,
you find yourself falling, coming to a new low.
There's that one person who will never leave your head..
Why me..? Why this..? I'd rather be dead...
Many of us try not to catch this horrid disease.
It only toys with our hearts, a relentless tease.
It drives us crazy and mangles our brain,
there's something we call these people.. utterly insane...
So, escape while you can, you arn't missing much...
Just the perfection, and loving warmth.. in their gentle touch..