Like weaved patterns,
loomed and destined,
tied with no way of escapade.
Like spider webs,
thin yet strong,
crafted into locks,
with no keys, trapped.
Heartstrings, that are played,
with love and pain,
bound by the depth of our tunes,
rhyming with our emotions,
that fade away and come back dancing,
in torment and jubilation.
Like a lonely soul,
with knots and crosses,
no spiders or colours,
no keys or tunes,
no heart or warmth.
afflicted love,
in those knots and crosses.
-:D
LiveToWrite 