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Sometimes, child...
Falling in love seems
as far as the stars,
as possible as if...
If they'd crumble
on their heavenly paths
and fall upon our heads,
as real as eternal.
Sometimes, little one,
you'll let yourself
die in strange arms
for your heart's ran
out of blood and
all you seem to need
is someone to cringe
at the sight of your
fake and bored smile.
Sometimes, my dearest,
I will face your fears,
and let myself go
to protect your eyes,
eyes made of gold,
eyes made of naiveness,
eyes made of the times
I'd bleed away
just to be alive.