Blind

His love, is unconditional for her Neverceasing, like the temporal track But I just wonder, when his mind will turn And he'll realize, she doesn't love him back She puts him in consistant agony With immensly harsh rejection and lies Then she turns as sweet as a spring peony Thus, his affection grows more and more high Forever and always a battlefield Are the antagonizing games of love And I feel, that if they don't quickly yield His soul will fly to the heavens above It is urgent he is brought back to earth Or invisible myraids become hurt