-Charles Blaine
What dreams do damaged ones embrace?
Wretched insides hidden behind one's face.
What hardships must they often endure?
All the while keeping their love's flame pure.
A ghost of grain and barley leers confines of space,
Haunts those who've long felt no escape.
Twere memories sweet of times oft forgotten,
Twere sweet as fruit but with time have rotten.
Beguiled by lies and sweet deceit,
Their once good hopes, do long retreat.
Quaking queerily in the night,
They try no more, tis no more fight.
That flame of love now is put out,
Quiet lingers, the dead move about.
Where once dwelt purity all has died,
Oh woe extended suicide!
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