Invisible violins
played sorrows symphony
never ceasing agony's sting;
While slithering memories
with razor sharp words
danced on self-esteem.
To touch fragments of withered hearts
brought forth rain's fall
to beady eyes
this was the broken record
on minds' harp
that echoed on sunny days.
With three words
whispering in plugged ears
"I love you"
a tormented cause.
Love was his dagger
plunging deep within innocence
faltering on thin lines.
Eyes so keen on redemption
fixate on broken souls
slain by his cold heart,
could he love me
when I'm dead?
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