I. He says,

don't let them fool you,

my heart, my (love)

as long as you beat I won't lie (but if you

stutter,

I will too)

they say it and laugh

for if hell chews you up

It certainly won't

spit you back out again.

II. The living only live

because

death is death, you see

(nothing)

else

but that

)is where you've got things all (wrong?) inside-out(

III. things that rise from the ashes

first have to f a l l into the f i r e

And he waits (patiently?)

Hopeful for the first fall

that will beckon the last,

smoking her like a second-hand pipe

IV. But where have you been?

leaving the loneliness all

on

its

lonesome

while (two. who?) became the definition

you sit alone

chewing on bones

that build

the (life size?) figure of what used to be

it's almost complete

but it won't

have

a heart.

V. he'd be nothing but the

irrational?

Fear

that kept you u/p at night

but he's b.e.c.o.m.e.

The irrational

hope

that won't let her

awaken

VI. this (unjust) goes to

s h o w

y o u

that there is no such thing

as an unrequited sleep

only one

that

moves undulating

breaths

through pieces of (glass?)

So shattered

that even dreams can't solve the puzzle

.


A/N:

Yeahh. I was sick today, so I decided to update again.

This one is another one based off of a song, and stanza three probably gives the biggest hints.

On that note, the last one wasn't even a question, but . . . Eve got it right :P I wrote chapter five after being inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's The Cask of Amontillado.

So, yeah. Reviews are pretty cool.