I count the lines on your palm, and I found nothing but me holding you.
If by chance a heart gives, a living soul be saved again.
Its judgement weighs my soul, counts my value in pure gold.
It's the pattern that hurts me, the repeat of things that I dislike but is difficult to accept why it's done.
I thought that I was off for the greater things of life, but with you, I became part of this world.
This time, we get sour as our insides eats itself.
Life isn't about giving in to fears, but about using fears and life circumstances to as stepping stones in life.