I avow the cost.
For I you, have crossed the end.
What a fickle trend.
When you hear the call,
To break them all,
Fall one by one.
Deal is done.

You decline regret.
So get a grip on your mind, hon.
Can you fathom?
What do you want to do?
Its up to you and your selfish wants.

They recline in mirth.
Not much worth than all the hosts.
A most paltry ghost.
So, you see the truth,
That apathy is sweet vermouth.
A fountain of youth.


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