The small warfield of myriad battles few were triumphant, a lot were fatal burdened with despair, fidgeted and unrest once there dreams were sought to nest
home for love, passion and reform gloomy it turned, after the storm beating up being weary and worn bear the freight of promises torn
one half of mine through thick and thin confidant of every defeat and win the secrets that it kept within throbbing inside like spiny whin
reconvening the shreds of heart razed by one and was torn apart still it is ready to be my friend pledged to never leave me in end