The flower blooms again without the need of support.To become a moon from the sun, takes alot with acceptance and trust in one self.To accept the flaw! a mere ink saves souls, marking journeys for others to stay.
The thing called love is a cruel word
It was something I searched for around the world
I also searched in lands
But finally found seated in my heart
I learned to love gradually flaws
I learned to let go and accept all of them
But when it was the time
I became the dreamer searching for understanding
I don’t expect love, from anyone
But the least just understand and know WHY?
Hold your breath, close your eyes, and dig deep
The ocean formed from droplets has it all
Despite reaching this stage of no love no hate
I know it's me who will change not you
I began inking my soul in paper through hands
Remarking my journey with new stands
I just want to be the moon
which is pretty from afar
The close contact would stop the encounter from
the inks and bar
I was desired, a choice, and a maybe once, I won't let
the door open say!
The key has burned to ashes and formed manure in soil,
now there's no escape from this door that leads the way
I had already lost the fragrance of my flower once
My story isn’t for the people to listen or mark but maybe
can help some in their name I write
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