Dedicated to all those devious people who usurp the temple of love with lies. There is "no trespassing" for your kind.

Somewhere in this soul of discontent There's a spot left ajar with love's faint lament This drone if you will of emotions gone cold With the ring of a bell from this spirit on hold If wishes were worth it and the answers had truth Then the crux of the matter would turn black with it's hue When the posers now silent... unspoken but fed By gestures in silence given with dread Is the crux of the matter like quick games of chess Just words to check passions with lust left a mess Or the whispers of love that opened the gates For the victor whose words ring forever checkmate One has to believe or just lay down to die For the soul never gives up it's eye to the sky So to speak but forgive me but never to dread The words that experience so often have lead For a bride of love's passion as jealous winds blow For the words of a suitor whose words never showed Quite the meaning of love or just what was meant On this eve of regression and masked discontent.