• This is the Story of the man who never loved,
    He wrote love poems and wished he could,
    The men who served him wished he would,
    but never could he love.

    "My hand guides your soul.
    My armour shades your skin.
    You will lose your worry and fear
    When I am here."

    Was his favourite thing to say,
    He would whisper it every day.

    In his quest for true love,
    This man would flirt.
    He married, courted,
    kissed and hugged
    but the women he held,
    he never loved.

    With his life of no success,
    This man grew a great fear,
    A fear of death from loneliness.

    He feared the reaper,
    Feared it's call,
    And every day his mind decayed,
    His fear grew ever deeper.

    An autumn morning,
    The rain was light,
    This man was sick of his plight
    He found a quiet river,
    The water was cold, it made him shiver.
    "Now is my time" he said aloud
    And drew a blade, sharp and new.
    "I'll give into my fear,
    I'll die of loneliness, right now and here."

    He took his life upon that blade,
    And left a note right near him.

    A moment later approached a maid.
    She was pretty, and loving, and suited to him.
    "Eek!" she screeched as she sighted him.

    'Oh No' the man thought,
    as he died.
    The maid he saw as he closed his eyes,
    Was the love he had given up on.

    Needless to say,
    She grew old and grey,
    Never to know a man.

    Sometimes though, she would dream.
    About the bloodstained mess from that fated morning.
    She would always wonder, it would seem,
    About the strange letter pinned to the dead mans waist.

    "My hand guides your soul.
    My armour shades your skin.
    You will lose your worry and fear
    When I am here."