Poetry

My sorrow was
expressed as the soul passed away,
I secretly
sing a lament,
But the
mighty heart of mine still speaks to this day,
A revelation
to the core was once sent,
Thoughts of
the twisted say we not be,
And nature be
against it,
The rhythm of
my cold is sang so in glee,
Yet I
approach the one and only beauty,
Say 'How be
my sweet love? ',
'Does my
loneliness make you gray? ',
Never has the
keen self felt so dark,
Never, never
till this dejected day,
And a fiend
dying to share its love within me ever lurks...