We are not victims of the stars my love,
But only of our own sins.
Starry posts mark the ways of our deeds
Poking through the perfect shiny black void of space
Like notes of an old tune.
Oh, my love, how I wish we were perfect.
But even that would not save us from the cross.
Star-crossed lovers rail against their fates
And shed oceans of blood and tears
Never knowing why.
No comments:
Post a Comment