Run away now.
Don't ever look back.
They'll burn your world
and advance to attack.

They'll take you freedom
and shackle you to chains.
They'll drain your life
and the blood from your veins.

Run away now
while you still have the chance.
Don't ever look back.
Don't sneak a glance.

Run like the wind.
Don't let them catch you.
For it shall be the day
you will, forever, rue.

They will destroy your hope
and shatter your soul.
They will leave you broken
like the lives they stole.

They won't show you mercy.
They won't let you go.
Run as fast as you can,
as you should've, long ago.

Battles raged on for
the cold, iron throne.
Kings were slaughtered
of origins, unknown.

Misery and death,
that’s what it bred.
That throne, so cold,
to destruction, it led.

Rebels had risen
to claim the throne
whose kingdom from hatred
had slowly grown.

The hunger for power,
the thirst to rule.
The throne turned
the wisest, into a fool.

The land was soaked
with blood that was shed.
That throne, so cold,
to destruction, it led.

In a kingdom built of hate,
with pillars of lies,
stands the cold, iron throne
as it’s glorious prize.

I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be

Falling in love with someone who is bipolar will never be easy.
There will be minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months where I'm unexplainably mean, or recklessly happy.  
For a period of time, I may be all over you and want to smother you in my aforementioned reckless happiness, that I will forget to ask how you're doing and if you ate anything today. I will forget that unlike me, you need to sleep for 9 hours a day and that you're not fully ready to take on the world.
At some point, I will take a turn for the worst and will mope in unbelievable sorrow due to the death of my false happiness.
I will cry about everything and will stop calling, and forget to remind you that I love you so much and just need some time away.
My deep sadness will soon turn into unrelenting anger and I will tell you abusive things that I don't really mean.
I will be confused as to why I say them, and apologize a million times and try to explain that I can't control my anger, and that I need to leave and be away from people for a while, although I know nothing will really help.
You will insist that it's okay and tell me you love me.
For days, weeks, or months, I will do this, and you will soon think I am lying and think that I am just genuinely terrible.
My constant apologies will become nothing and you will soon distance yourself and start falling out of love, but still have a glimmer of hope.
After this episode, I will have a period where I feel nothing and am almost robot-like. You will feel unwanted and unloved and look at me with such sad eyes and get nothing but a shrug and a half-assed "sorry."
When you finally walk away,  I will have more bad days than good days because I will regret not saying I love you more.
I will hate myself for being bipolar. I will fall back into my bad habits and soon you will be a distant memory.

Life?
A heart that beats?
A pulse that pounds?
Foolishness!!
You have to live to be alive