Rain of sorrow falling down ones soft skin
Dripping from watery eyes down ones chin
How would one act if ones soul was stolen?
Like a piece of precious colon
Why couldn’t one see the threat that she arose?
Like a thorn under a beautiful rose
Since when did one damn ones heart for interfering?
Making one feel in need of retreating for fear of hearing
Hearing the truth poke out of ones mind
Rearing back in the shadows in fear it may bind
What sorrow state has this gotten one in?
Making one feel like being throttled from within
Help one thou merciful lord
Help one save oneself from ones heart’s record
Cant thou lord just kill ones own servant?
End his torture by giving him a fervent
Give one something to look forward to then an endless torture
In this forsaken darkroom that is forever a scorcher
Save ones soul from hells burrow
By wiping this love that one feels for one maiden so thorough
With this I end ones own curse
For although it may have been once a blessing
Its damages are even worse
