We the Andromeda of pulverized heart , the former flamingos captivated to the lakes of lucious skins. We see Love as Ruined buildings with tarnished motifs amidst the metropolis. No one looks past the kaleidoscope of derailed dispersions. A mere existence of light & day, flings of Dusk be may. Diagnosed with nostalgia, being treated with nonchalance; Hops our souls ,uniting thou heart and mine. Arms never stretches long enough to hold onto the moon,yet promises an entire fiasco of stars . Strings of love making way through those beads of infatuation & sheer atrocities of hope . Oh what a wonder!; Dismayal seems bliss ! #Eh!
