This is the requiem of the treason'd poet

Who's dying inside, but fails to show it

This is the dirge of the doleful lover

Betrayed by a smile, meant for another

This is the cry of a marred soul

Lost, rejected and dejected

Forgotten in whole

This is the song of true sorrow

Planned to be broken, tonight or the morrow

Maybe it was broken already

It's true though, one is never ready.