Does one have to care about the intoxication of a man's desire
to simply mimic it's pathetic existence?
Can the foundations of a lone human soul, stand tall
devoid of the calloused knife that is love's persistence?

Should misinterpreted geniosity be denied of strength,
to be distracted by the limitations of compassion and respect -
why would one care about another's delinquent woes,
when he can have brilliant superiority and intellect?

Should any self-deserving man work the need to feel,
when really he could simply pretend -
why, would you cut the stork of a blooming Rose

if it were to suddenly grow, expand and extend?

To have the heart of a loyal friend, and of a lifetime's lover
is most honourable, a gift you could not beset -

alas, thy cold-hard heart of a killer is much stronger, for
if those relationships were to crumble, he could simply smile and forget.