Its color is dark red, it feels so intense that it hurts
it kills, it could bury alive
It’s not anger but it drives you insane
It’s not fire, but it burns you inhumane
It is not a chocolate, but it makes you hyper like an energy drink
It’s not a devil, but a beautiful monster.
It’s bitter and sweet like a Sudanese drink
It is not blood, but it could make you bleed!
It was a “KING”, a respected king who ruled with fairness in his kingdom
It was objective, the end was known
But now it’s so subjective that you can shape it as how you want
Now it’s like a product, I’m sorry “a porn product”
Luckily though, the king wasn’t executed but exiled
So it no longer rules humanity but it rules some people’s hearts
First, it tickles it
But I do have to say it’s not polite, it doesn’t knock the gates In reality
it either sneaks inside like a thief
Or blindly invades –maybe for a while
Still, It makes you smile
It makes you laugh
It helps you survive –maybe for a while
It makes her imagine that if she submitted to the rule of the king
and if she therefore traveled with him to his kingdom
her light red imaginary fantasies would come true
Therefore, she wrote the following wishes in her diaries: “My dear, please lift my face, grab my waist, gaze my face, and let’s exchange the taste
Please hold my hand, hold it tight, pull me close, and betray my pride
Please hear my heart, hear my breath, feel my beats, feel me close
Please take me to the beach, take me to the park, Karak let’s take, cookies let’s eat, cos I don't wanna go to a crowded place
Let’s lay under the sun, let’s walk under the moon
let’s watch the sunset, let’s play for some time and let’s stay until the birds fly
or until the sky finally cries
Let’s speak about you, let’s speak about me, and let’s let silence speak
Fight with me, tell me what you fear, don't fake a smile, don't fright
My breath you can steal, my lips you can eat, my smell you can have
My heart you can heal, with me you can dance
with me you can fly, just let’s give it a try”
That’s all she wanted, however, the reality was different; the reality made me interfere and write the following in defense for her: “He says you're beautiful, you are! He says he misses you, could be! He says you’re sexy, look at you! But he avoids saying he loves you!
My dear, He likes you! He likes some parts of you He is just attached to you, But that doesn’t mean he loves you, And yes there’s a difference between being attached and being in love, I say he is attached to you, Because he needs you –for a while
He needs you, for himself
He wants you, to enjoy you
He doesn’t care about you
He is so selfish; so self-centered
Because he is in love with how you make him feel
You gave him what he missed
The feeling of manhood, simply cause he is an asshole
He is in love with the feelings he get when he’s next to you
Not you! He doesn’t get your faults
He holds you liable and leaves
My dear, He never showed you vulnerability
He was never weak in front of you and therefore, he doesn’t love you
I remember he says he’s happy, he might be!
I also remember he says he’s fucked up, he must be!” So, She ...became skeptical about it, she became skeptical about its existence, about the existence of the so assumed to be called “fair king”, so please by now, allow me to introduce you to the king by his name, his first name is (Love), and his last name is (Cliché)- and by the way cliché means: a trite, that usually expresses a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and that has been impacted by long overuse. Ladies n gentlemen, its Love The Cliché.
Still, I do have to say, She has some hope, still, she resists the reality
Still, she has some deeply hidden faith!
Words
