The Man

I killed a man today,
He screamed in agony and pain as I took his life,
"Thy words shall be held to her heart forever,"
"Even if she can't admit it?"
"Forever,"
He said,

Today, I destroyed all I loved,
In a hotel of which I cried a thousand tears,
A hotel that some could call the house of despair,
They just wouldn't stop,
So I acted in a most selfish fashion,

Those eyes of yours,
They bring out the worst in my head,
The worst in your eyes,
Brings the best of memories,
That I can't ever deny being my life,

It's always storming and thundering in my head,
But it never rains,
It never rains,
How can one live,
If one is to die young,
With never falling off the edge of their seat,

Those eyes of yours,
Bring out the best in my dreams,
But the worst in my head,
And the debris, the scars,
The lies, the wrecked and the fallen,
Around the bend, just around the bend,

Today I gave creation to my mind,
The pain and the frail fringes,
Of that mantel piece you loath ever so scornfully,
In your place of which you drop, along the road of hell,

Your eyes, darling,
They beat my thoughts down,
To the ground, where I lay,
In waiting,
And searching,
For your decision,
Of our fate, in this world.