Perfidy

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perfidy

About scratched hearts.
Shave your heart now,
exterminated by treachery.
And now the face is painted with tears.

Regarding the heart being hurt again,
now in my chest I feel sore.
It's useless before you tie a promise,
if in fact no longer care.

Promises that you tie to pigeons.
Now, you lie to your treacherous soul.
Really; my heart is now torn apart,
sliced ​​by thousands of daggers from your sight.

Tired of this heart;
it's time for me to fix my heart.
So as not to just be hurt.
Being hurt many times has made me want to stop loving.