He sits by the door
Waiting for her to poison him.
He won't escape her treacherous limb.
Dripping her demons on his tongue,
She loves him to death. Not long
Till he grows cold on the floor.
Her ruin is his pain.
In the night he weeps
while she sleeps.
Convinced that he is happy,
"No one is better to me."
His life is all in vain.
Until the sun comes into his life,
Depression would be his
Forever, and with kids.
A man's life would waste away,
Never turning from night to day.
She would have been his wife.
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