Every day you know you weep,
Till at last you fall asleep,
Emotions are so hard to keep.

Poor lone boy, why must you feel?
With this heart made out of steel?
Cold as ice, and unable to deal.

Try and try to break this heart,
Mend it with the darkest art,
What a curse, hits like a dart.

Till at last you will succeed,
to commit the darkest deed,
all at once, your only need.

"Let me die", he says to thee,
"Food for worms, I will be",
"Please do this for me"

Angels come, his soul to steal,
Sweet death too, her hair you feel,
It whispers in your cold dead ear,
"Finally, a meal..."