hornam adzadu

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Love Hurts

The choices of this life
The ironies we live in
The regrets and setbacks
Essential to our living

How did he go from being a tortoise to soaring like an eagle
Is he who he is or what or where he thought he would be
He who I am is not me but a graphical representation of what is to be
I, he did not could not have loved yet he did

Figured it out, have you? Or understanding seems to elude you
I, he thought he did, but he walks in that same shoes now
Lost in a world of endless possibilities
Yet lost. The irony.

Up until now, it seems abstract
This points in many schools of thoughts
Yet up until now, some wouldn't have figured
That I write of of a heart that swore to not trust again
And yet bleeds again before my very eyes

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