And me, standing under the splintered night, catching fractured glimpses into the black behind the black, hearing the prayers of stars, the angry whispers of the dark summer night.Its voice cracks,on your name.My eyes close,on your name.
Hearts don__ break.It__ just another thing the poets say.Hearts are not madeOf glassOr boneOr any material that couldSplinterOr FragmentOr Shatter.They don__Crack Into Pieces.They don__Fall Apart.Hearts don__ break.They just stop working.An old watch from another time and no parts to fix it.
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Hearts don__ break.It__ just another thing the poets say.Hearts are not madeOf glassOr boneOr any material that couldSplinterOr FragmentOr Shatter.They don__Crack Into Pieces.They don__Fall Apart.Hearts don__ break.They just stop working.An old watch from another time and no parts to fix it.
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When we prepare not our hearts for the things of God, evil things take over.
You cannot force things apart that are bound at the heart.
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I have been poisoned in your love and now I need antidote Jacqueline.L.J! <3