It was a cruel thing
A sting that I was forced to suppress
A bitter taste that I should have forseen
But I digress.
For, as you should see,
I don't know if you're the one for me.
Who are you, do I know?
Why is it then that I have let you so
Corrupt my way of thinking with
Those deep, beguiling eyes...
That may be filled with lies!
Lies, like I have known before, that blossom into the looks of wild flowers,
But then go to spurt the vilest of spores that paralyze the lungs.
Or maybe, just maybe, you're not like any other fair one I've encountered.
I would like to say that
That is the way and
Restoration will come to this withered emotional core.
But then again,
As I must confirm,
I don't quite know who you are.
Life is a fickle mistress.
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