When we are hurt and we are scarred
From love undone, it can be hard
To maintain will to want to live
When hearts are leaking like a sive
It seems as though will never win
The thought of hope to love again

Alone now our only company the silence
surrounding this tender affair
Our scarred bodies broken from heartless love
We search for hope remaining
But find ourselves facing empty chasms

To speak of love or hate defined is remarkably a privilege of our kind.
To hear words at all is a miracle in itself, so to no victor the spoils go if all we have is ourselves.
People are unique, that fact is surely straight.
Some with hearts of gold simply can't bear the weight.
People surely differ, and that's a lesson shown -
Through people like myself, and our chivalrous hearts of stone.

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