Will she love thy again,

Or will I squander as I sin,

For I am no good,

But neither is thee,

Yet I bear unbound love,

Whom to no other can compare,

Remnants of broken hearts shattered like glass,

On the floor which I walk,

With hardly a complaint,

Staring out the clouded windows,

Filled with jaded thoughts,

For I cannot see straight,

The burden beared hinders me everso slightly,

But everso slightly enough,

To keep me sinking and swimming;

To what I fear is my own demise,

Being my unwanted destination.