Ripe Fruit

Life has many taste that brew in our minds bowl of potions. I sip a drop of the words coming out of my mouth that marinate emotion. This balance imitates the line between love and hatred bred in a beast society ill natured like a baby being separated from her mother's arms. The isles of a million men lust over identity but fade out over personality. Counting chances of curiosity chanting with the seven sins all for me to listen to your truest thoughts and feelings never to exchange for the world that's yours I'll give you my heart. I promise to exult the desires of your heart, but I understand your are God so I bow down to you. One day I shall no longer live so let this be my last dream.