Love is a loaded gun, and I missed the bulls-eye,
and tonight, I will mourn this fact yet again.
Greet me with open arms, darkness, old friend,
while I get more addicted to my tears, raining eyes.
I have nothing to give you, nothing to win,
I have nothing to lose, now that I have lost you,
nothing to prove, when there is nobody to listen,
I have nothing, nothing at all, if I don’t have you.
Maybe I never had you, maybe it was all a lie,
but a beautiful lie is so much more acceptable than the truth,
Cupid’s arrows can kill you far more painfully,
than the lightning bolt of Zeus himself.
Am I alive? What is life when it is breathtakingly bereft of you?
What is death when I die every morning anyway?
What is the point of silence, when that is all I get from you?
An inch away, we still stand miles apart.
Love is a bed of roses, my dearest friend,
And I was merely your cushion from the thorns,
but a hundred scars from each thorn did not hurt,
as much as your silence does today.
Please don’t mind me, don’t care about me.
I am happily sad without anything worth keeping,
I am worn-out from pleading so much to you,
but I have nothing to give you, what chance did I stand?
I have nothing to give you, only myself.