• Good Morrow, What sorrow can thou leave for me? Is thy strength left thee for none other to replace? Does thou wilt to follow along the dark path of contempt forgivness, or fall to thy skin and scrap thyself to give unto his name? My sorrow my woe, my undying forgivness unto you is what thee wants,Lead away I shall want but can not find, Sun in a place where no moon shall shine. Thy pain in place thy sharp needle to its self,what beauty is left to be untold? What color of red is not evenent to this moment in time?Can so many take my pain when in my time of need. Her want is a sense of feeling to wanting of rain,but never comes.Oh so slowly the color flows from the painting,staining the floor to where it was so long made. Forgive me not for destroying the tile,oh thy sun has been taken from thee,thy star has burnt out,fear not cause none fear'd this night