Friday, November 4, 2016

Archived: The Defeat That Wasn't

Mood:

  

In your silver strains,
your crooked smile,
and your worn off shirt, I saw a defeat.

In plans about your works,
your project, your future endeavours,
and how they fall after you met me, I saw a defeat.

In the blood that stains your mouth,
your cold palms,
and the water that streams down my eyes, I saw a defeat.

In the voidness of the room,
the silent that bears my screams,
and the way I shake your being, I saw a defeat.



My dearest, dearest, darling,
If you and I were to be put in a war,
I'd be winning over your reign,
and you'd be losing over your throne.

My dearest, darling,
If you and I were to be put in a war,
a defeat and a heartbreak of one
would be a victory for another.

My dearest darling,
If we were to be put in a war,
I saw a defeat,
in the way we've lost us to our fate.


To the one who always say how lovely I look,
no matter how tired, messed up - or how many times I refuse to believe so.

To the one who's never tired fighting for me,
who woke me up from my emotional hibernation.

To the one who helped me grow, improve, and feel empowered,
who never stopped having faith in me.

To the one that matters,
the one that loves me unconditionally.

(PS: Let's watch Over The Garden Wall again, some other time)