I am but a willow that weeps.
I am but a flower whose petals fall.
My soul is but and unbreachable wall of sorrow.
My tear are but a river of pain that constantly flows.
My breath is but a cold kiss of death that sweeps across your face because my heart stopped beating from pain long ago.
It's mangled and twisted and beats to a strange rhythm.
I hurt him so by what I do but I can't but not love him,but his slightest motion brings me to crumble.Sorrow.because I am but a wall of sorrow.My life is but a stream that flows rocks of meaning tend to be left down stream because when he left my life and now it is but a stream that flows with out meaning.Sorrow.