His soul has a paradox
So much contradiction
Is his dream fiction,or non fiction
Running life through clocks
By The natty as a fox
wraping his heart with locks
But suddenly got unwraped by some eye knocks
That knocked him down after being strong
That lasted for so long
Although that smile of her was a pong
Her words were his best song
she was the SILVER BULLET
That didn't get the lane wrong
A mugger who mugged his mind
He would love those moments to rewind
But always thinks that he was blind
Even though she was kind
Abhorrence in her soul he did find
That pulled him down to the floor
He Tried to stand up
But his core was begging to give up
Cuz of his feeling of being sore
Forced him to Walk directly to his death
Cuz his soul was chained to her every single breath
He couldn't stand up and fight
Although he was a great knight
But she was his light
His SILVER BULLET
Sincerely he knew that from the beggining
But her warm heart
Melted his frozen one
He had the thrust
But he could never mistrust
Those eyes that once retrieved the key
Of the chained locks