What become of my heart? The possession I left behind. In over shadowed hopes that maybe it was something you'd find. Now covered in dust. You left it to rot. To turn to rust. Taking a chance on everything you got. What became of my glory? The greatest thing I took for granted in ignorant hopes that it wouldn't turn to a fairy tale story I'd give you my love and glory Once again Just to participate in our love story If you promise to love me like you did back then. But it's covered in dust. From the inside out. A disease poisoned by lust. The result occurring from too much doubt.