I guess we have both lost our touch at manipulation. We have found the flaw and a dying warmness surrounds what we once called love. After all, love is nothing to inanimate objects. Objects is all we are becoming and our love is becoming an object as well. Its become a cold breeze on our shoulders; fallen silent like a wise man's dying breath. We have traced the steps that once excited our motivation to dream. Now we are stuck here- Languishing till the day we let each other go. Our love is dying in the cold of this, our hypocritical woe.