I read poetries before i met you.
None of them made sense.
I stopped reading them when i met you
and-with tears in my eyes-i reread them after you left me.
And what I realized was,
They were actually warnings.
Love held her hand,
He told her to jump
And so she did.
She was falling so hard with Love.
But suddenly,
Love turned into an illusion.
It was too late when she knew
She was falling alone.
