On this poem
I write the tears...

That forgotten feeling,
When memories can only be held so close...

May it be a task as to forgive,
Something so hard makes it easy to live...

The look in your eye,
saying I'm lonely and I'm about to die...

At eighteen years of age
Contemplating the possibilities...

At eighteen years of age
Contemplating the possibilities...

In the Arms of my Angel,
My thoughts become strangled...

Hearts held high,
Only omniscient of obituaries...

Yeah she's fighting the greatest war alone,
In her mind ,all her past written in stone...

In a world of sick twists,
Light is only to be blinded by the dark...