unsung

a mortal, born out of good 

with instinct to love since childhood.

how much would

the capacity of the heart hold hood ?

till one gets in adulthood. 

oh, I used to think love was bountiful! 

using charm in exchange of some boastful. 

the focal was blurry,

and in abandonment of my character was a scurry. 

plentiful of masquerades in cheery 

glory turned gory. 

threw away my youth 
threw away my character 
threw away my love. 

wish I still could beg for mercy 

could we still carry on the journey? 

now all's left are ashes in memory

reciting how did you get all dirty 

guess it was just yet another story 

one that you burnt too fast in fury 

I pray upon any form of a fairy 

one day you'll truly live in merry. 

of all my unsung words 

i'm sorry.

-a.g