A long the line he lost his heart,
He lost his love and joy.
The crystal morn on the eve of escape
He looked out apon a valley.
Darkness filled every abused memory,
Every hate filled line.
Nothing stopped his endless pain.
For he had lost what had soothed him twice over.
Loved until she saw empty eyes.
Empty unloved eyes.
Shall I compare him to an icy dawn?
Or the coldness of Death?
Should compare him to the golden morn?
Or the silver moons ray?
A long the line of life he lost his heart,
He forgot his hope and life
On the coming dusk of the eve of escape,
He gazed into the dying sun
And fell into oblivion.
On the planet he saw only what he felt inside ,
The Hate.
The Fear.
The Pain.
He had fallen prey to a darkened mind,
And he had fallen on the eve of escape.
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