The glimpse I see is the one that looks away

  As soon as I turn my heavy, foolish head

  The eyes that drown me in familiar sorrow

  Like an ill spoken doe, or raven of virtue

  Why do I catch them? Why do I stay?

  The brain of vivacity feels no dread

  The brain of vivacity is one to grow

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  For dread is a fools excuse for the truth

  Well I am a fool, and I know I must change

  But my stubborn reason will walk by again soon

  My stubborn reason, my ember, my bane

  For any good man’s bane is what he longs for most

  And I cannot love her, for she is not mine

  And she cannot love me, for I am too wary

  I cannot know when her gaze decides

  She cannot know how much I harrow me

  So why, you craven bastard, why must you love her?

  Why, I ask myself, must you torment me so?

  She is not mine, and I am not hers

  And if she wanted this dance, she’d sing the first note

  Then why does she stare?

  Maybe it’s true

  Maybe the raven knows not how to sing

  Somewhere in there

  She wants it to be true

  Maybe the first note is mine to sing

  Oh world, if only you were black and white

  Oh ember, my ember, if only I were right