My muse and one true love has ventured back home, but she does not see me. She does not see that I breathe the very essence of her, that my beating hearts sole purpose in life is to keep me live to adore and please her. I do not feel very metal, I do not feel very hardcore. Instead I feel as though my skin is on fire and she cannot see the smoke. She married a loser, a pathetic excuse for a man and she bred with him. Little did she know that through each contraction, my body also ached. It ached longing for her, it ached at the reality that she is probably never returning to me, my soulapos;s light dimmed as it set it her first born would not be mine. I had made peace with that and now suddenly she returned. She is here, and she cannot see me... I stand before her but she is too blind to see that I will eternally love her.
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