Bad writings...

When you think your heart gives no more,

Something comes along, that makes you doubt,

You see a scene full of colour,

In a world full of dark and sorrow,

And then you remind yourself that you can still love.

It is an essence, a gift

That not everyone can maintain;

When war wounds

We pretend to heal,

We search for a glance

That gives us certainty,

Moreover, that is how we realize

That it is a need to love.

When you close your eyes

and you plunge into peace,

A fairytale world

You will probably find,

But it will only be possible, if you learn how to love.

In misfortunate occasions

A curse you will find,

And then you will repeat a thousand times

That you will not love in this life.

When you least expect it

and your shield you worship,

Suddenly turned into pieces

Vulnerable is how you are feeling

And that misfortune’s author

Gives you a well-said truth:

Not loving, if well impossible

It’s source of honey and bile,

Cause of disgrace and fortune.