Poem By The White Rabbit

your lips so soft a whisper

my hate so harsh it blisters

your faith so true it glistens

my fate so obvious it hastens

your life so pure your almost gold

my heart so broken it's almost dead

your breathe so sweet it sings

my blood so tainted it hurts

your love so whole it ripens

my thoughts so cold you stiffen

your eyes so light they could be a dream

my mind so dark not even the suns kiss can be awoken

your touch so loving it sears

my fears so real it kills

the difference of we so great we're almost defeated

you fly in your heaven of gold and sun

i crawl in my hell of scorching brimstone floors

you hold your mighty sword

i grasp my burning bow

you hope not for it's use

i dwell on the hope to put you down

you cry in hopes for me to run

i scream in hope that you will come

you lose for a second

i know who had won from the start

you leave the battle tired and sore

while i rest forever on the ash colored floors

you brim with tears and a hate not unknown

as i smile into my last dieing breathe

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