Light may drag darkness to be gone but darkness drag out light in hearts of lovers broken. Broken be the hearts of lovers but two lovers die awoken. Dreams on top of dreams stack the photographs of memories laid to rest in the ignorance and dishonor of a destiny left uncommon ever so, ever more, forever to be. There thee rests then, him and her, eyes of the brightest crimson through the eyes of darkened lovers souls, and blood hardened dry leaving a pumping chest deep to rest…

Broken destiny be the sin of the dishonored two, and sinning further more by pounding their once conjoined souls dirt down far too deep. Yet bodies truly “un-living” praise one morrow in a fortnight, one pleasure being swallowed and flushed or allowing petals in the flower of their virtue ripped, ripped, ripped. One body, one morrow, one lonesome synthetic pleasure. One One One …. Of an unrealistic two, three, four, thou’s unpleasant soul laid to be rested. Destined however, more.

Is there nothing so black as the inferno of a broken hearted destiny?