He felt love growing in his heart.
The pain was an enormous feeling of art.
Every mark was tatooed in his skin.
Where does love begin?
Crazed out of his dark shadowed mind.
A lot of stories, trailed behind.
Miraculously this man knew right from wrong.
In his footsteps he drew along.
He stood in front of his own mangled duel.
Waiting on the one great love, feeling like a fool.
He screamed loud enough for every heart to hear.
Crossing paths, for all to fear.
Now when you look out to the moon, you see his withering soul.
A man that loved and lost, a man who felt the toll.
He felt every pain that killed what made him a man.
A story that broke his dignity, it's love, not just anyone would understand.
©terrylin53
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