Progression to Recession

The wind flows freely
Through your hair.
I love you really,
But you don't care.
When the true colors show,
All will be right-
And I will know,
You have no light.
I fell for her,
However you are not;
All I had to endure,
The battles we had fought..
But I am too late-
As I come to her door
And call her name,
I hear only the poor,
And I fill myself with shame.
I take a step in
And start to lessen,
A blood-stained knife,
And at the tip is her life.
As my anger took hold,
I did something bold;
I ripped the weapon from her,
And said, I shall endure.
And I took mine as she did hers-
So we may burn together,
Under the eyes of a beholder.

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