Description
[ Y A O I ] [ Y(ou) ] There's a child, weeping in my arms; that is exactly how I picture the man that refuses to show me his salty ocean, and still lets me run a tender tongue over his rolling tears. [ A(re) ] What we are, what they are, is a mere compilation of the wishes of the fallen, who won't or are unable to stand for themselves atop a butterfly's wings. [ O(ur) ] The regret that spilled out of your words, while directed at me, wasn't honest; or so I try to hope. Our love is unfaltering, bulletproof. [ I(incentive) ] Our spark in the bonfire, all but used to build up an empire, an utopia, who no one knows a thing about. I kiss you, and I feel our flames course throughout my body, rolling around a heart that has missed a great quantity of beats.
You Are Our Incentive
