When the Hero Met the Devil
memory is a stranger, a lier to fools. happiness is further away than the looking pool. once there were many but now there is one, his heart may be broken but his story is not done. too many have bled in the yesteryear blight. too many lay dead underneath a starless night. a hero to some, but a wandering fool in any case. he lost his soul when he looked the devil in the face. the devil sighed and again the hero lied. "my love is not dead," said he lowering his head. the future is nothing but a dream to remember, when all memories fade in the lingering of life's December. he cried when he lied, his love had truly died. the devil and the hero sat down together and waited together in the dark nether. I remember his words and what he said, "The future is a lie when our memories are dead."
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