Cold

I live only to breath

but all I breath in is disharmony

the torn up pages of a forgotten life

malice and anger and hatred and strife

things close to my heart, those things may be

but without balance

all you get is disharmony

the burnt up remnants of lost love

the kind where your partner fits you like a glove

that you’ve seem to grown out of too fast

couldn’t make it last

not long enough afore you managed to kill the white dove

not enough to make you whole

the only feeling left seems to be cold