Tenacity is my father;
among all good things he too showed me drama.
My love for you kills me so prefer not to love,
would not matter then if you were gone.
Now go, leave me alone, while I greedily wish to have it all..
my gluttony is for the you, never seem to get enough.
I wanted to hold you to never let go,
thought it was possible but life proofs me wrong.
If I trust and believe in you then you will abandon me,
hence my tendency to so furiously grasp you,
in case one day could not longer find you.
And jealously in rage, feel out of control,
hating you even more.
I do not like myself, but cannot behave,
my laziness takes me away, unable to better myself.
Sometimes I do see.
My reason tells me what’s right and wrong,
and so do call you with hope.
I love you, don’t dare to hate you,
how could I ever hurt you?
And once more do hold you tight, just to nourish you this time,
your Prince is here, and call you my Princess.
Serenity is welcome and it feels good.
I look in your eyes and clearly see the light, the light of truth.
You love me and your warm eyes tell me: It will be ok, stay in serenity.
But then again, I don’t deserve you;
you must be lying, I cannot trust you and is your fault,
that with your beauty, alike a rose, you must have thorns,
and the lust you awake on me, surely, you must use it as a tool,
I will endlessly search for just one thorn; I may even find two or four?
And where is She? Where is the Rose? He truly is killing both. She is withering away…
