To dream a life of pleasure,
Reside a world of hell.
Demands partial reason,
Denies existence well.
A star so dimly lit,
Still reached the darkest soul.
And in her heart he bit,
Consumed it left a hole.
© 2009. Delia Ross. All Rights Reserved
Now comes the time, your hour spent © 2009. Delia Ross. All Rights Reserved
The well filled with regret
And sooner yet you show intent
What more is there to master?
If I could bring you back somehow
It'd surely spell disaster
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