You wouldn’t beliebe what lengths I would go just to make him suffer
… just to make him feel SOMETHING when it came to me.
The knife through the heart would release me of my pain and with a simple touch
would make him suffer out of guilt.
This love was no
fantastic phase of fulfilment
it was rather the exact opposite:
This Love Was War.
A war over what side is aloud to make it out alive.
And a war about will-strength, emotional control, ability to overcome
and ability to suffer longer – outlast the other.
he made me want to kill.
It didn’t matter.
He made me rage, He made me suffer, He made me hate
– ultimately he made me fall in the war of love.
I believe he actually never intended for such dynamical forces to be released.
He much more was focused on his own mind.. his own strategy.
So the fierce collision of the two raging souls ignited a passionate explosion
with no end to the misery it would bring.
But where now lies the boiling heat and the storming bolts of destruction
there existed once without doubt
a Love so powerful
it became the engine to the spiralling damnation of the two lover’s souls.