My eyes sting with tears that have prickled out of my heart, even in the silence of it, it still yearns for the beloved faces of my friends. Then I see the one man that sends my heart beating again, yet it is forever silent. A true friend that is so impure that he seams unadulterated to the very core of his soul. He stands before me a frown everlastingly printed on his fine face. One would say the face of a god if ever a god existed. I want him with all the strength of my being wishing that his heart wasn’t as cold as it was, wishing he thought better of himself. He truly could be the angel of death, standing before me in the field, bleeding. I bleed for his love hoping that something I’d do would be enough to win him over, he smiles, as the field drains to black my angel of death seeps complementarily into the depths of my heart and the words white demon echo through out my head, sending me into escalating depression.