darling, be careful for there is tremendous passion behind those steel doors, and a little bit of aggression, maybe even a dash of remorse. but mostly i’m a sea of love, littered by heartache; i’m sorry for the inconvenience, love, i have been neglected, for to be understood in a world like ours is an act that can never be perfected, a sophistry from which a man cowers, & yet here i am, wishfully, waiting to be resurrected. but darling, be careful; all it takes is a knock, or perhaps a lie for the doors to open wide, for the chaotic ocean of disaster that is I to flood you but when it does, remember i tried. i tried to hold you but you could never abide, yet how can i blame you? the heart never picks where to reside. -by: Mayar Mostafa.
We are not superheroes with big red capes or vigilantes who fight crime at night. We are just personas with pens in their quivers and who are passionate enough to share the rowdy thoughts devouring their souls.