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- I oft told her, I would kill him with bare hands. 
I oft promised, I would get away with it. 
I oft told her, her nightmares would soon dissipate, 
no more would be the man, who stole her childhood. 
No stars would twinkle in the sky. 
No more songs would be sung of lullabies. 
I oft told her. Held tight against my breast, She cried and left - 
me, with her one secret. That she cried. 
After all these nights, she still cried. 
And I never told a soul. 
I oft promised, that my love would never grow old. 
I oft promised. . . She lied to me and broke my heart, 
ripped my friends, and my brothers hearts. 
She poisoned everything she touched, with - her. 
Was it love, was it lust, will it ever be just. 
I'll never know, we all held on - till the end. 
Break up, after break up, after break up. 
Her patterns will never end. 
Oh sweet nectar. How I miss her. 
How I hate her. But how I love her. 
I understand Shakespeare and his lovers. 
He was married, but he had a lover, of woman, and of man. 
Sweet, noble Shakespeare. 
Star crossed lovers we were in the universe. 
All switching roles throughout each life. 
And yet, I still dont know all the players - but three. 
I know, without a doubt. She'll never figure it out.

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