Thought we read the book of love,
But we were wrong, what came from those verses were not doves,
They were our fears combined,
Creations of a twisted mind.
Letter by letter, sentence by sentence,
Called forth the course of repentance.
Oh!!! Such complex sentences,
Spectacles or messages?
Why did we open the book without reading the title,
We felt so entitle
That even our suffering seemed to have subtitles,
Those empty pages became our idols.
You play your part and I kept reading on
While the passion was slowly falling away; gone.
What we read was not the book of love, it was the sentence of you and I
Copyright © 2017 Manuel Osornio-emotionsoflife2016
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