Every illusion I ever created has or will be beautifully broken when lifes cruel words of truth are finally spoken.
In the end you are utterly alone, left only with your depraived body of weary bones.
Promises I have made to myself and others, beautifully broken like the hearts of scorned lovers.
Beautifully broken from the begining of birth till my last breath when they lay me in the earth.
Imperfection is my only constant, ones desire of acceptence is what I call complete nonsense.
I am beautifully broken from the inside out, mistakes I continue to make remove all doubt.
A paradox of good and evil fills my heart, ripping, clawing, tearing my very soul apart.
Beautifully broken pieces of me scattered with stain, while clinging with hope still in my veins.
Beautifully broken and unable to heal, cause life is full of people willing to steal.
Your time and your efforts they suck hungrily dry, uncaring, unyeilding needing no reason as to why?