Watch as you fall from grace.
Let him lie your smurk clear off your face,
As you relentlessly cling to false embrace.
Is it not working out?

You had your chance for love,
But your taste untrue.
I should have foreseen this life being for you.
So enjoy your life of black and blues.
I won't be around.

Choke on your sin.
I've swallowed it all.

Watching the leaves cascade accross the pond,
All the while remembering the wrong we've done.
The only irony in our agony being that of your lies of love.
This door of opportunity abruptly slammed in my face.
Now to just wait for another to open in its place.

I feel the sympathy of your cold razor's edge.

A heart as deep as the dimples on your cold, lying smile,
Ms. Guided, you held me along every mile.

Tell me. Was it worth it?
All your sneaking around,
With your legs off the ground.
Did he earn it?
Did he deserve it?
I'm sure he laid on the charm,
Until you clung to his arm.

Well, I hope you're happy now.

Ms. Guided was your name from birth,
When you came to earth from the hells that forged you.
And I'll wrap you in this tattered box,
Marked LOVE on the top.
I'm just a lover scorned too.
Ms. Guided, the last laugh's for me.
How's it feel to be the flavor of the week?

Lace *******? And a bra to match?
Not for me to enjoy,
But for your new boy toy.
I'm sure you had fun whenever I was out,
But it's not filling my shoes he should be worried about.

And I'm sure you're empty now.

Ms. Guided was your name from birth,
When you came to earth from the hells that forged you.
And I'll wrap you in this tattered box,
Marked LOVE on the top.
I'm just a lover scorned too.
Ms. Guided, the last laugh's for me.
How's it feel to be the flavor of the week?

I'm finally able to rid your taste from my mouth.
I know our love isn't all that's been going south.
Don't come crawling back when you flames of lust become weak.
My heart's a graveyard, baby. To the dead, your talk is cheap.

Ms. Guided was your name from birth,
When you came to earth from the hells that forged you.
And I'll wrap you in this tattered box,
Marked LOVE on the top.
I'm just a lover scorned too.
Ms. Guided, the last laugh's for me.
How's it feel to be the flavor of the week?

Love?**
A word any more loaded would surely have its vessel of destruction  firmly planted against the vulnerable flesh of my soul.
A tool only to be managed by the most skilled of marksmen.  
Naturally every man feels a sense of entitlement when it comes to venturing into the grand shadow that love casts.  
The sad reality being few ever make it out of the dark.  
Somewhere beyond the gloom of our contemporary road less traveled by is the Utopian bliss of beauty and contempt.
Perfection?
No.
Never perfection, but the closest our society will ever achieve.
Beauty...
Real beauty...
Is the ability to love imperfections, and embrace them as truth.
Honesty is the true happiness.
to be honest with one's self is to be true to his fellow man.
We are as we are for reasons beyond our control, yet destiny can be persuaded by selfless acts of love and truth.
Give me your tired, your weak, and your poor, and I will show you your casualties of war.
Not a war fought on any foreign front, but an internal struggle of love for another which will always strike swiftly and blunt.