There once was a girl.
There once was a boy.
And there once was a place, where love never dies.
The girl was an angel, looking down from above, simply a ghost of a lost, tragic love.
The boy was a fool, in heart and in mind.
This story is sad, but just as true.
It’s what happens when you stop being you.
The boy had started out being a man.
There was kindness.
There was him being true.
Just like any other story, it has a beginning.
And it has an end.
It started one night, in the moonlight sitting on a swing.
This boy realized he was in love with a friend.
There once was a spark.
There was a tree swing.
There on this swing, in this large old oak on top of a hill, he poured out his heart to her,
as his friend sat, a young lass named Grace.
She revealed she was betrothed, engaged to another.
There once was a love.
There once was a promise.
He told her he’d never stop giving up, never stop trying.
He wore a huge grin, acted like he was alright.
But truly inside he was dying.
There once was man.
There was once honor.
This boy became angry and lonely too.
He swore he’d get vengeance on the man that had stolen her.
He had no other woman he wanted to woo.
There once was innocence.
There once was a night.
The man got angrier, and one day he came into sight.
He saw that man that stole his love.
He followed him home, one cold winter’s night.
There once was confusion.
There once was a murder.
The snow was falling heavy and the temperatures dropped.
The man snuck into the house, weapon in hand.
Then he found the heathen that stole his love, and with that weapon his head he bopped.
There once was blood.
There once was guilt.
He drug the man out into the cold, and bound him with rope.
As he carried him silently in the dead of night,
He hid him well, and buried him under the snow.
There once was a letter.
There once was a pain.
A few days later, he got a letter, bound in black wax.
He was told Grace had died, a poor tragic death,
Of a broken heart, poor Grace did die, broken by the angry mans payback.
There once was a boy.
There once was regret.
The boy he now felt, much, much shame.
He regretted his deed, he acted ill mindedly.
He tried to take part in a pointless game.
There once was a love.
There once was forgiveness.
The years went by, that the man lived in regret.
He took a moonlight stroll to the tree with the swing.
His disastrous ending love for the girl, he’d never forget.
Deep down in his heart, he knew it was true, he loved her deeply, that wasn’t a lie.
He laid there on that swing, and as he took his breath, he thought
There once was a boy.
There once was a girl.
And there once was a place, where love never dies.