My Myth

Real love is a myth.
Once Cupidon knocks on your door,
your life becomes flatring and sweet.

And overnight!
his arrow stabs your heart as poisoned dagger,
neither dead nor alive,
you'll be that cursed angel,
a dark ghost,
wondering and wandering
hopeless and homeless.

Numb,
Frozen inside
without a touch
without love.

You fall appart into pieces, very tiny piece is a memento, a bleeding wound.
You try to collect your scattered pieces but in vain!
They are drifted away so far...

You're trapped in that deep gloomy sanctum, you scream but no one can hear you, no one can take your hand and pull you out.

No garish sun, no gleaming moon, no light any more.

Just,
dark...
silence
and your sick echo...