If love had a taste what would it be?
If it had a color what would I see?
My days are dark without the spark
And painted grey in the shades of clay.
What do you feel when it rains outside
To me it's the same without my pride.
I gave it all nothing in return
Feel within the fire burn.
It's not of love, passion or desire
To such a fate how can I retire?
Being someone and no one at all
To such a state when did I fall?
With faltering steps and the empty feeling
With all this time where's the healing?
Being together yet junctions apart
Love is a scythe in my bleeding heart.
I feel not pain the wound is numb
It goes unnoticed with people some.
My smile or tears it did not matter
Vulnerable as glass it had to shatter.
For love is weak but desires strong
Hate befits in the matter long.