London (poem)

His face with the art of scars 
And moist clay placed a part.
I picture love and hate as best friends
Then things start to make sense

I don't know you yet,
But I am still building up the courage.
I must understand you first
Before I bombard you with my own load of luggage

It seems as if you had it,
Then it faded.
But boy, I can tell 
It was splendid.

Who was she?
I bet a rare piece of art
Stolen form right under your feet.
She left you pale and week

When London was stolen form you,
Your voice ran away too.
I'd say I understand but I have no clue.

Don't make me expensive to the worldd
But expensive to you,
Then you will never see my back
Unless they take me from you,
That's if you allow them to
Do not make our worst fears come true.

I am here now
And to love again,
You will know how

Zamoe*