Sentence For My Death Poem by Saint Cynosure

Crippling truth I found her love,
the sentence for my death.
Pounding heart and sweating hands,
with abstinence of breath.
Thought to thought by thought for not,
she is everything Im thinking.
The hole her lies bore in my heart,
has all my soul a sinking.
She's the one that bares the guilt,
for all that I do suffer.
Like a wall that has been built,
more lower down than upper.
I could not wish on any man,
this pain that she left.
Crippling truth I found her love,
the sentence for my death.