A bond in which has been severed
A tear that follows the angry glare
The blood flows from a wounded chest,
The rope is broken, one might confess.
You can't control the pain, one you cannot name.
So overwhelming, hearing your heart in your ears as the loudest of drumming.
The sword clash with fate, breaking in two.
And that's how you get the braid that has broken, the secret that no one
Should have spoken in these halls,
For there are ears pricked, waiting for the perfect call
To come and nip the heart, the one that has now been torn apart.
My fears have come true, the ones I'd always kept from view.
I thought that I could have trusted you,
But instead you whisper to the enemy when no one is near.
So now, here we stand, no longer holding hands.
Looking at the traitor who sunk into the depths,
Ignoring our calls.
Watching, watching as the last stroke of the blade leaves
The bloodied body, lay ashen in gray,
The traitor always knew that this day,
Which is today
Would be the last time to try and call out our names?
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-A Wild Clover