To you, my heart was open,
I remember each hour we spent together,
As you left, I slowly grew broken,
You are the rational why I became a writer,
I wrote each stanza that originated from our illustration,
Each written line came together like a impeccable ballad,
The feelings shared arose from configuration,
All the past lovers come at them like a menad,
For you are now considered a legend upon your clique,
All those fragile hearts you've slain regardless of name,
You carry on with lightless shoulders, only carrying kin revenue,
They've gained nothing but money and fame,
As you observe, your heart collapses like an earthquake,
The end avails, fading into air like second-hand smoke.
