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
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