The most I took you while going
It was the moving of my mind
Which was really compulsion for sentences from one stage to another
I had fallen from your eyes; my scars were a present from your eyes
I couldn’t manage to love, maybe to be loved
I had domestic sorrows blocking love
There was no lie in the eyes, only sound
The promises given was one, the swears said zero
The things gathered, the photos were ripped out from their places
And hung up the tag to the heart
A new love, which will erase the traces of love
Ordered again
For rent.