Because if looks could kill, you would survive the lively journey
Until I brought myself to look into those dangerous eyes
That deceiving smile that led to the faulty cards I had dealt.
But if thoughts could kill, you would be bordering on post mortem
Days now Weeks, a sting forms a bruise and despair hovers through the
Heavy heart; in memory you were more than a memory.
To say that trust was broken does not describe this sour case
To have trust, to have feelings that you know nothing at all of
To have an unforseen fracture of the primary organ
The obscurity of your true, deep, dark intentions unfold
A trouble that began a sight unseen develops colour
Develops dimensions of which were never thought to arise
