Feel the Pain, of Hatred's Reign.
All seem Glorified, but who's not
Every Hearth Seems filled with Rain,
Those loving fires forever stained.
The Gentle Breeze has left in trade, for
Hatred's freeze we keep tp Bane.
Can our hearts be truly pure, when the
darkest acts we seem to lure.
Can winter's chill change me still?
Before life is torn and death is born.
Yet there is Mirth, to Every birth,
Though some bear fruits of fearsome
The Mighty Gale leaves many pale, but I
just gaze with Eternal Daze.