Someday your pain will be beneath you. Someday you'll see that all that crying bloomed flowers under your feet.
When the sun rises, I'll see you across the room. It's been years since I've disappeared but I did it all to protect you. Keep you safe from the dark that follows you and tries to hurt you.
I ran into the darkness for you, this was my plan and now I've returned from the black for anew, and I owe you a thousand apologies In the morning, I'll approach you. It's been three years. The story has ended and I have shed my own tears.
You were once the greatest thing that ever happened to me and now you are just thrown in the back of my mind. Now you're just scattered memories. I was always afraid of changing. I was never made to do this because my life revolved around you. But life does keep going.
As you decide to jump off this runaway train, leaving me in the dust left to rust. Leaving these grounds to become a beautiful flaming light in the darkness. Every night I would look into the sky and talk to you, telling you that life does keep going on but it's making me sick, love.
But in the morning I will awake and rise from the ground not knowing how to walk properly again. But I'll find enough strength to walk to your resting place and find peace in it and slow down in this race.
But I gave you all I had and now I have nothing left to hold I took all my love and spread it across your wild footprints and grave, like ashes, to let it sink down into you once again.
We all get older. We all lose things. Life doesn't stop and I have never felt more alone, but time continues and the days go on. But not a day goes by that I forget you because I never dreamed of meeting someone like you, but now you're just a memory in the back of my mind.
Oh, the tragedy I have seen, leaving my eyes burnt out. "Please don't be dead." I repeat countless times to your stone, to the sky, to the heavenly stars that shine so bright leaving the darkness in the pity shadows. "Do this for me please." "Just one more miracle."
Once I was a king loathed by my kingdom. I was a machine built from the toughest iron nothing could break through. I left my emotions to rust in the rain and murdered them in the cold night. But I let my ego hold my strings and now I can't even treat a human right. I meet a manic on the south side of town. With a cane in hand and his mind locked in a birdcage since the war. He was a maniac for trusting me and loving me and all my iron core. I don't believe his tales for, he is dead on the inside. Departed from his heart, He says he feels more alive this way. With a cigarette in my hand, I hope for his life to never feel alone again.
Saying “Women of the Night” Might be alright As a description for some girls, They stream eastward Along the bank, Checking for marauders and adjusting curls.
Yet courtesans are different; They came as swiftly as they went, Called on by important men. From house and hotel they are borne, In carriages, and in finery worn, For those who have a yen.
Yet others still elude one name, Of condemnation or fame. They do not wander at men’s whims. They deliver terms to him or him. And live in dwellings finer still, Until the payer has had his fill.
But with the latter does he ever Tire of the source of pleasure?
For some the need outlasts his want, And he becomes the supplicant! Then woman’s wit becomes the master, While her body wields a whip. The sinner’s desire speeds still faster, As she the body’s scales does tip.
This was an attempt to fuse Galsworthy's view of Victorian "women of the night" versus the updated version of Irene Adler as a ******* in the BBC's "Sherlock".