Why can't i feel what i thought was real,
Why must they still, yes still seems no big deal.
I walk, I tumble,
Can't run 'less I stumble.
Love spills blood of many men,
Hatred spawned, can't stop, won't bend.
Searing insides with sword in hand,
This one organ makes them man.
They toy with you like girls and boys,
Sarcasm and betrayel but still I am poised.
For the game is played both this way and that,
'Tween prince and pauper, fool and bureaucrat.
But Lo and behold that both shall win,
They'll still fight or divorce in the end.
For no principle against purgery or treason,
Precedes the notion that:
Passion Rules Reason.