I want eternity and I'm afraid of it,
Just 'cause I cannot treat it as something real.
Dreaming of endless love is kinda sweet,
But why I have this feeling someone is about to steal
My happiness, my place in troubled world?
I cry of stress that I create myself in my sick head.
And I regret my every single rough word.
It seems to me that safety hangs on such a fragile thread.
Somebody, help me to believe in pure
Undamaged things, that still exist here, not only above.
Such things that can become an endless cure
For lonesome minds.
Such things as endless love.
"He made her vows she should be the only woman he would possess while he lived; that no age or wrinkles should incline him to change, for her soul would be always fine and always young" (c) Aphra Behn 'Oroonoko: or, the Royal Slave. A true History' (1688)