It was his first day The third day to death New and young He had nothing left Walked in with nothing Walked out empty Leaving all hopes behind He tried to fit in He did not succeed He had little time left Golden reflections ruled his life What life he had left It was all right in the start But he’d moved on from the beginning Only memories left But not here anymore Struck with a silver blade His throat tightened Struck twice His shoulders wouldn’t move Only his heart left But that was dead long ago He had moments left What did he do? Looked his soul in the eye A tormented whisper ‘Thank you’ R&R
Nice, good work the both of you except the double topic on the same thing is very annoying, keep up the good work.