Love and Broken Souls
Love is a complicated feeling, they say,
Understanding its depth isn't like child's play.
But isn't love as simple as breathing, I ask,
Who knew that fate was planning a cruel task.
Love is liberation, salvation, they say,
But what about the ones drowning in gray?
What about the feeling that you could taint someone pure—
Their charm, their smile, their allure.
Love burns, love scars, they say,
But what can the shattered souls say?
How to explain that the broken can't be mended by the kind,
Because their fiercest enemy is their mind.
Love stories of forever and beyond, they say,
But some sit and watch the unfolding of that play.
Those are the ones who aren't sure about their days,
Because they are lost in an eternal haze.
May all the broken souls find love, I say,
But I know their road to love isn't child's play.
They carry the guilt of the purity they slew,
And unfortunately, that guilt drowns them too.
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