Love Story

A gentle young man, and a young and beautiful princess,

in a verdant and lush forest, just before the darkness falls.

They embrace, laying among flowers and colorful blooms.

Soft kisses. Gentle kisses. Innocent kisses. Still pure of heart.


I watch, slunk down in my theatre chair, drinking a cold beer.

Revival houses let me remember, when I still was pure of heart.

When I was a knight, instead of broken, filled with love and light.

Even after turning away from the dark, the stain and hate linger.


And that gentle young man, and that sweet princess fall, as we do.

The darkness comes, the demons torment them, they are pulled down.

But in the end, they are redeemed, and made whole again, all is well.

Here on Earth, the redemption never takes, never washes away loss.


The bright orange sun shining behind them, they run hand in hand.

The perfect forest and the perfect love, without all that comes after.

I remember a young woman I loved, and who touched my face.

I remember a young woman, before I fell away, fell forevermore.


It’s raining now, as I walk to my car, and I am wet, but not cleansed.

I hold onto this wisping ember, this little light of purity and grace.

It’ll fade and go dark, and I’ll be back where I began, never whole.

No redemption or cleansing of the dark things when you let them loose.

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