That boy, he was so sweet.
He tried to buy my love from me.
He sulked in my shadows,
he weaved in my long golden locks,
he tried his hardest for me.
That boy, he spilled his blood for me.
He took on battle, just for me.
He pushed his blade,
hard and strong.
My love,
It did decive.
It one the battle,
stabbing that boy's heart twice,
for the rage in it's own.
That boy,
he lay on the battle field.
His face pale and cold.
His eyes were glazed with ancient memories,
of love that was meant to be.
That boy,
I still love for him.
I still loathe for him.
From the deepest darkest pain of my ancient soul,
I feel an..an...
I feel;
Love.
I love that boy.
I truley do,
But my heart decieves me.
But my love is true.
A special thanks to 'Leum Angie' for his inspiring poem, 'The one who walks with water'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is quite an expression of a common thing in life. Love denied. Regret. Well communicated by the heart. For those who have one. GW62