eicat
I never thought that you would die for me, bleeding, on the cross. It was more of a fairy tales, a comfort legend, maybe another religion. After all, how could it be, that you love me and would die for me.
Perfume float into the air, startled. It is you, come and sit next to me. Fidgets in the soul, whisper hard warning. No, you don't belong to me.
Their's a cave, inside a bonfire, two or three, man with women, watching the shadows on the wall. The fire keeps them warm, seeing nothing real outside their zone. They don't want to leave, nor they dare to live out a real world.