• I sat behind my desk,
    Thinking.
    That man.
    The one whose heart was filled with coldness
    Death.
    Heartache.
    He felt nothing, except for hate.

    When he spoke,
    He was calm,
    yet his voice was cold,saying
    Goodbye.
    He, the man I loved
    Gone.
    Dead inside.

    He came back to me, saying
    I'm sorry.
    You know what I said?
    Goodbye.
    And He died.