How can you wake apart from the one
That loves you so much his heart aches
To think that you don't feel the same way as well
And his eyes brim with tears at the thought
Of your demise but he knows no other way to
End the pain in his life.
He practices throwing darts in his room,
At a picture he kept of you both on a hot,
Summer afternoon.
Your smile littered with small punctured holes,
His equally disfigured as a result of shaky hands,
And he nods grimly after the last, a hit square,
Between the eyes.

And his world turns upside down,
Head hangs low as his mind swims wild,
Free in its thoughts and free its path,
Through the past and the present that he hates,
With a passion rivaled only by a love for the woman
Who he knows returns his feelings in kind,
A hatred so full that she's totally blind.

As the rope tightens, eyes flicker once again,
To the picture mauled by the projections of,
His loving hatred, a masterful creation of the
Woman he wanted. Rejected was he so rejected in kind,
Is she, the object of desire.
Choking blue colour flames into a face,
Previously red with an attempt to suck air into,
A deflating head.
His eyes flicker twice as the last breath escapes his lips,
And they glaze over and fall as his legs rest limp off of the floor,
With no recognizable remorse in his non-seeing eyes,
And his visage is one of content,
Portraying forgiveness that never touched his living heart,
But in death he finds the courage to let her live as
She chooses.

Riashain
The Bard Lord

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Miraman, in the year 379 AF.