" untitled" if my minds stories were ever told and my tragedies fill thy page, then who hath my stories loved and who willed to see my face, because forever lost in thought is most and truly my eyes will never see, lost in all that is forever lost and darkness forever fall, on the poet trapped in his own words and dead trees block the way home, well, people only know what you tell them and hear want they want to hear, but if you truly see my friend and fear my greatest fears, then the grass will grow for you my lord and the life you know will feed, but be it evil my lord my friend, then you truly do see me, then all these things I hide, all these people I hurt, only to fulfil a page my lorder, then with beating heart I show the world, for a stone, is a stone, is a stone, is a stone, and I can throw them too
