A rope of bond knotted too much,
Not perfect for drawing out the feelings from the well of our passionate dreams,
But it’s all that we have,
As we struggle to pull up every ounce that keep us alive,
A bucket of our drying love each time,
Sharing the sweet drug, that we thrive for more than previous day,
Alas! The well is running dry,
But our addiction doesn’t seem to cease anyway.