is there a chance in this world, that i will see another
only to be more beautiful and less decietful than you?
such words that i whisper with this voice, will never bother
the conscience of your heart, or the wings that you gather.
is it possible to say, that there is love greater than yours?
will i love anothers eyes just as much or slightly even more?
it seems so distant to even ponder anothers soul except yours
but the tragedies in which my eyes have wept here on the floor
are the wounds in which you've inflicted with your scorned smile
and so it is, i am caught in your cage of love and hatred
to kiss those lips and return is all i wish, but it cannot be
for you picked the rose without thorns and not me instead
take your fake flower and fancy till you bore and think of me
but yet i will be gone, off to paint another less tainted than you