A ruthless lover they say he was,
He knew not the rules of the game,
A glasshouse he built for her,
Where the lark was kept caged,
Hidden from the breaths that could caress her face,
And the lights that could fade her love,
But the bird was full-fledged,
She shattered through the glass one day,
He knew not the rules of the game
1 comment:
its such a true imagery of misplaced love and identity.....
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