Love is a subconscious gamble, with your fragile heart at stake,
To pursue its indeterminate desire, conscious or not, that it may break.
Ace, joker, queen or king? Who’s to know who will win?
In this unpredictable game of love, with players overcome by desperation,
In a game where even clever tactics fail. Win or lose? Thoughts derail.
For who’s to blame if you lose the game?
The opponent or the gambler?
The heartbreaker or the lover?
We can only ever hope to win, in this game of wishful sins.
For what we may gain, may just be the greatest fortune that can ever come into our lives.
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Comments
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A perfeição está para além do imaginário. Quem ronda o imaginário fica mais perto da perfeição.
Carlos Infante
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*helping-the-unknown Where unknown artists get their recognition
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Tina Nordloh
PrismCanvas.com
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You put it right.
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In Our Darkest Hour
Will You Still Care?
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you dont have to have money to be rich
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"Come to the center, Luke."
Very well done once again.
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kamihito
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We are those who live forever, without ever knowing what tomorrow may bring. Those who seek what is impossible to find. Those that hope for what we may never obtain, peace. We are those who are cursed with an eternity of waiting...
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Brutalize me with music.
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