It was in Westfall...
Taking care of the Defias Brotherhood
The misunderstood
Earning my XP
When my health was red,
I was knocked out cold
That's when she came
And casted Resurrection
Giving me life,
And a state of affection
We were both level 18, she and I
Being a tough guy, letting out a Battle Shout
She looks with a pout, then letting out an
El Oh El
Very well, I replied with a smirk
I'm LFM for quests, you in? I ask
Sure!, let's do some tasks
Just as a Murloc comes in view
I was mrglmrglmrglmgrl over you

Days roll on by
As the server restarts
Time grew old, yet my feelings stayed fresh
It was early spring, taking a deep breath
That's when we traversed the cold harsh lands
The Wrath of the Lich King

We did everything together,
From Utgarde Keep to Halls of Reflection
We had quite a collection
PuGs would ask her,
Need a tank?
No, there's only one tank I trust
With my repair bill
So yeah, no thanks

And yet one day, that fateful day
Who knew it would happen?
We were running Trial of the Crusader
A smooth run, it was clean as paper
After the raid,
She whispered, to my ear
In purple text
I did not want to hear...
I'm sorry, but I'm leaving the World... Of Warcraft
I just can't tell you why... I'm sorry
And then just like that, she gave me a Power Word: Fortitude
Increasing stamina by 165 for 30 minutes.
And left, with no sort of attitude.
I treasured those 30 minutes.
Of solitude.

And to this day, I regret
The things I have not told her...
She was the Frostmourne to my Arthas
I thought we would defeat the Lich King together
The thought still itches and burns in my head
Like a person who fought and fell under the Scourge
Her eyes were as blue as two +30 stamina gems
Which were neatly socketed and glued into an adorable epic face
Item level 245 above and higher, to be exact
No, that isn't a lie

It still feels as though if the heart is going through PvP
Not enough resilence,
to sustain those critical hits
Random passerbys would ask me in Stormwind,
Hey, need a heal?
I would glare back, flagrantly
No priest, druid, or shaman could ever heal the
Void in my heart, truthfully
This is a trial I must endure by myself
And they would say,
Uh, oookay.

Fate is cruel...
Even still, I filter my searches just for you
Who knows,
Will I heal?
I most likely will,
Even though time passes by
As I eventually forget you...
Onward, to Cataclysm
I will always have those fond memories
Of the Protection Warrior
And the Holy Priest
Out doing quests in Westfall
They weren't fantasies, I know it be true.

And so, just as a Murloc is slain for a quest,
I must say adieu,
To you.