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Literature Text
A mere sweetness to the eyes
With a gentle voice to add
Not a true threat to the field
In which a heart's moths do flutter.
There's but the smallest stirring
To accompany a lonely smile
Aware of forced love's quaint facade
To lure a heart into deception.
Be it a game of love or lust
A tug of war of 'do's and 'don't's
Or simply a game of pretend
To dress a lone smile with color.
There's a bitter beauty in the cracks
Of a heart that's feigned affection
The hint that what was once reality
Could return if properly coaxed out.
With a gentle voice to add
Not a true threat to the field
In which a heart's moths do flutter.
There's but the smallest stirring
To accompany a lonely smile
Aware of forced love's quaint facade
To lure a heart into deception.
Be it a game of love or lust
A tug of war of 'do's and 'don't's
Or simply a game of pretend
To dress a lone smile with color.
There's a bitter beauty in the cracks
Of a heart that's feigned affection
The hint that what was once reality
Could return if properly coaxed out.
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Comments2
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Your language is powerful but unnecessarily stilted. Surely you can do better than "a heart's moths do flutter", Yoda.