phantommask

He wished he knew This broken heart belonged to whom Never had he endeavoured to find out, though. Her heart was broken through and through Somehow he knew, as time goes by Her heart will be healed and she'll love again. In every love roulette he plays He bets his moral heart, raising the stakes Utterly knowing she will weep lakes and rivers. At last, he, too, will be again with lonesomeness That's what he calls a coward's heartache Still, he plays the games. Amid the bliss and heartbreaks There was a darkest sound So soft that he barely heard His petit heart trembled with fear To shed another tear and be broken again. He ass