It is blood that goes into forgiveness.
It is blood, and you and I together,
that have come to make this day.
We have reached nothing of the pinnacle of belief.
Have found nothing but this furrowing hatred.
And so blood must go into forgiveness.
What have we but time run short
moments wasted and past into oblivion?
This trying love has cursed us,
and we shall for these efforts pay.
Through all of this, there is no greater role than blame.
It is so difficult for me not to put you at fault.
Was it not you who made me fall in love?
It is you that I've wanted,
and you that I cannot bear to see.
Lie not, and say that you have loved me.
For despite all this, you are my mind,
you are my worry, grief, and love.
And only my blood fallen
can spur forgiveness.
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