Battlefield Romances

her empty heart keeps beating... her empty gaze still sees her voice a shell filled with the cold sand sluggish monotone wet of a violent empty sea.... she romances the dark masterpiece of your voiceless screaming.... she sits with you in the gray room her fists balled up in limp rage... she is the daughter of her cherished heartbreak the end result of her old lover dark and bittersweet... a tasty gem all bright and beautiful wrapped up in the bandages of her battlefield romances... her empty heart keeps beating... her empty gaze still sees... her warm hand still gives comfort she is still the life behind your unmoveable force she is a woman of these modern days strong in ways not even she can see beautiful beyond what any mirror can see her heart will find its way the love will return to eyes her voice will grow strong once again await her heart's spring await her and she will see you are the man that was meant to be © 2016 mark john junor all rights reserved