ninadelamorte

I've a long road to travel. I've made promises I feel I haven't kept.

Treading water, barely keeping a float, I move through the todays without thinking much about the tomorrows.

Bitter weeds are growing in the beds where flowers used to bloom. Love heals, love dies, love kills.

Time doesn't heal all wounds. For some, it just makes them deeper. An endless abyss into eternal damnation.

There are no pieces to put back together. They have shattered to dust and have blown to the distant corners of a faded memory.