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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1699483
Even love has it's limits!
Ignited by passion with his hand
How does one hate to love
I peeked from behind the wall
In stumbles the statue of a man

So afraid for him to see me
My castle, my dungeon, my home
The dangers of a love so bold
The whispers of ghosts torture me

Out my window rests a peaceful garnden of stones
Would my fall release me or bring me twice the hurt
With sleep ion his eyes
I can see the man of my dreams

What right do I have to question my life
Why would I deserve any better
This is a punishment for attempting a life out of my class
Look at his hands

So much love yet earth shattering pain
Watch as this tiny cloud drifts over his face
From white to bluish grey
Silently, softly, soaking up his breath

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