Stories1 min 177 1 min 177
Love me for my virtues, hate me for my flaws.
I'm not complete myself, neither are you.
But if pasts are unknown, it's better not to judge.
For stories untold aren't stories disappeared,
They travel like peregrines and burn like sulphur.
They rain like hails and pretend like cats.
Then the more you hide, the more they lure you.
The more you laugh, the more they hurt you.