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the fault in our hearts
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tragedy Stubborness was a trait defined acutely at your birth. Some rogue star endowing you with a will beyond my own. Till now. Each stagnant pause, each inaction is infact an action forging reactions upon me. Sealing a resolve upon my heart to forsake you. No defence, no apology. And i refuse to forgive without one. A bitter betrayal. Left my war and fought your war so hard for you. All that remains is the molten wax with the words inscrpited access denied. your new monker imbeded upon my skin. And it seeps darkly red in every corner displacing even the last hope.
And i dont care.
Are you satisfied now?
