• It's eyes radiate of an angel,
    but seems to look of a devil.
    It's sweet but so delicate it needs to be cradled,
    but at times it's screams are not so civil.

    It laughs at pain and misery,
    but jokes about the bird and the bee's.
    It loves the old sceanary,
    but can't see trough the redisigned.

    What it can not see,
    is sadly, it's own decline.
    It's decline only reveals it's self inside,
    'cause for it's face is so beautiful, i've already desided.

    That I secreatly love this rare creature of the deep,
    and always i will secreatly hold the creature to keep.