You expect me to believe that?
That we were simply character development
In a tragic tale of love and loss?
That you were merely the preamble to more?
That I will come up stronger after the war?
Where, then, is the passing of this storm
That rages inside me?
Where, then, is my saviour
My drowning wreckage, he pulls me from?
Where, then, are my golden rays of hope
To pierce through this shroud of grief?
There are days I walk the streets,
And the sun warms my skin.
And every