Built up so high
a mountain to the sky...

Black tears
fall from brown eyes...

With the push of a button
and the count of a score...

Seperated by history
Forbidden by old fashioned moral...

In the shadows I chase that girl
she's running from this sick cruel...

Kiss her lips...
close your eyes...

A young feeble soul
stricken with disease...

You see
through me...

Raindrops rolling down her window
thunder in the slate gray sky...

(This poem was originally written as a song)
Stuck here in the deepest night...

You think I've forgotten
but the memories are here...

I held my hand
to the wound...