Tyronic Soul

Quite, quite as pure as the crystal clear water

Flowing down the stream.

Ever so soft, as if, was a newly hatched chick,

Fluffed himself up to keep warm from

The frigid air of his new world.

All of which, truly were my feeling of love for him.

My lover left me cold and uncomfortable without a hand to call mine.

How is it, that even though I choose to be, himself

Indeed, I was his significant other. Many, many

To many lies were told, to keep a broken heart, I call

My own, from extreme misery. Yet the extensive

Work was overwhelmed by the flames of Rebecca.

Once you have seen my flaring internal bonfire,

You will never get to be in its presence again.