Paint of love

A heart skipping a beat, drew a fresco on the valve, on a nice snowy day, like she turned up the heat.. I saw her eyes and they shine as we speak, the glance that amazed me, lived like a dream. A dream of hope that she would return for all the days I have loved her, a dream of the sorrowful nights that we spent, although my heart was a canvas, painted love that she never meant.. I woke up up and saw the tart of life, the love was gone and it tore like a knife, it tore my dreams with her that were now just another melancholy, it tore my destiny with her that were not just another misery it tore my ambition apart, like she drew in a canvas, but she never understood my art...