She was my only direction but I lost track I went out to search her, ended in dead-ends She's gone away already, dealing with her own life And me, lost myself with my heart full of sorrow I screamed her name, didn't turn around Never looked back, went away The most painful is, she had forgotten me already If there is something you would say, I will listen Wish you know what's staying inside me What is hurting me every night I cant get used to this, I am still waiting

Each Man Kills The Thing He Loves

Yet each man kills the thing he loves
by each let this be heard,
some do it with a bitter look,
some with a flattering word,
the coward does it with a kiss,
the brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,
and some when they are old;
some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of gold:
the kindest use a knife, because
the dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,
some sell, and others buy;
some do the deed with many tears,
and some without a sigh:
for each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.