• From a mistake it was born,
    with our friendship torn.
    memories laying on the ground,
    falling apart with a silent sound.
    with fist's that begin to clench,
    what lay's between us is a trench.
    we glare at each other with anger in our eyes,
    as we want the other to die.
    our hatred fills the air,
    as the earth beneath us begins to tear.
    we raise our fist's as to fight,
    what had happened that fathful night.
    that the fist's fell,
    as to hear the chimming of a church's bell.
    the anger went away,
    and the sun returned to that day.
    till the next time the anger rose,
    i guess thats for another time i suppose.