If I could cry a thousand tears,
Realise a thousand lies,
Drown in a thousand seas,
Or fall from a thousand skies...
None of this, no none of this,
Would recreate such suffering
As You caused, as You wished...
[Does your pride extend this far?]
I wander in dreams tainted with pasts
That speak of futures lost,
I am that wretch which loves in hate,
A rose buried in frost,
And though the scars are faint with age
The scarlet sting remains;
If I remember you for anything,
It will be only for the pain.
















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