Clear order

I growed a heart.

A broken heart,

made of delusions and betrayals,

nourish with lies.

Made to protect me,

made to save me.

Eventually I get.

I’m going to dry all my hate,

and love It.

Sure.

I’m going to love It,

and dry all my hate.

I cultivated a heart.

A broken heart,

made of spites and falsehoods,

nourish with mirages,

and I was going to sacrifice IT.

I regret IT.

Made for defence.

I’m going to dry all my hate,

and love It.

Surely.

I’m going to love It,

and dry all my hate.

Pressures and diversity nourish with electricity.

I feel I don’t need another heart.

Encrypted.