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He gathers all flowers he sees to show off his romance.
He chops all trees he faces to show off his masculinity. 
He gayly spits out a lump of saliva to show off his coolness. 
He leaves traces of money wherever he goes to show off his richness.
He sings everyday, every moment to show off his persistency and passion.

But she doesn't stare into his eyes
with admiration nor satisfaction nor true desire.
Her eyes are a pair of story tellers, without a tint of a lier.
They only speak the truth, insulting the man with a harsh glare. 

This time, his simple-mindedness carries him away.
His lack of mind demonizes his very heart and bones of his soul,
Snapping at once like a monster, existing as a deleterious being. 
He goes mad, killing hundreds, thousands, millions, thirsty for a genuine love,
only waiting for to see a swarm of oozing blood waves gushing in and out of his lungs. 

He cannot cope with this madness,
His responsibility he has once established.
At last, he cuts his breath with an undeniable slash with his double edged sword,
chanting a regretful cry out of his body until the silence takes over his surrounding.

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