October 29, 2007
By Roman Dufrene, Snohomish, WA


A sense of humor thats far too dry for one his age
A way of speaking that makes girls cry, and makes guys full of rage

Doesn't mean hes proud of it,
He speaks softly, never loud
Preferring to lead himself in a shroud of mystery

He has a charm, which is so unique,
his outlook on life is very dark, and bleak
He is a more than a man, but less than a freak,
He's more than jock, but not quite a geek.

He's been 'The nice guy'
Didn't like how that worked, but he still gave it a try.

A dark-hearted saint,
around him all the pretty girls faint.

He knows that its dangerous to show any emotion,
He knows that its crucial to never drink the potion that would make him lose his wits
He heard about how it brings on strange fits.
So he never sips,
And he never lets a woman touch his lips,
He brings a bucket of water, and saves an armada of burning ships.

Unlike anyone you'd ever meet,
The dark-hearted saint doesn't hesitate
He follows his instinct, it makes him great.
But he can't win at cards with the goddess of fate.

He manipulates, he plays games,
He asks questions, he gets names,
He delves deeply into your soul,
He looks within you, finding the deepest hole in your heart,
thats where he makes his start.

'What a fluke'
'What a puke'

He smiles with fire in his eyes,
He always tells the truth, he never lies,
When he travels, he walks not, but he flies
The man who opposes him collapses and dies.

Impeccable logic, icy-cold reason
He's always perfectly prepared for the season,
With jokes that come at your expense,
he breaks down your walls, takes down your fence...
and suddenly you're bearing your heart...
Its not much for him, but its a start.
In the play of life, its his only part.

A guide on the path through the endless wood
An Angel now stands where a Demon had stood,
Does it ever occur to you that maybe you should...thank him?
Does it ever occur to you that maybe he could...destroy you in a whim?


Maybe he has an ego
Don't you love the color his eyes are when he says 'Well, here we go'
But somehow, he always comes through,
somehow, he always finds a way to save you.
Be it from yourself, or someone else

He's always there,
isn't is fair?
After all, thats his job,
Hes your comrade in a joke, and your rock when you break down and sob
An intriguing bloke, isn't he?
This dark-heated saint


It might be you, and might be him too,
Don't worry though...
Your dark-hearted Saint will always pull through

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