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She was there that night…
Under the pale moon light…

When his sky went dark…
Walking hand in hand, through the park…
She made not one remark…

As his rainbow’s colour faded…
She never panicked, she never wavered…

Or ran to find cover…
She waited to discover…

What came next…
As he sat there perplexed…
Feeling less than perfect…

And when the music stopped…
As the temperature dropped…

It became so cold…
But she remained so calm, so bold…

And by his side…
As the tears remained locked inside…

For none to see…
As he fell onto his knees…

Yet she never ran…
As the Nightingales sang…

Their sad lament…
And he began his decent…

Into darkness…
Utter heart breaking sadness…
A moon dance with insanity and madness…

She just stood…
Not claiming to have understood…

No judge and no jury…
In the midst of all his fury…

Remaining calm…
Not doing any harm…

Helped him through…
Showed him what to do…
In a world so cruel, but new…
With a heart that felt so true…

And then stabbed him…

In his heart she made a hole…
She freed this broken soul…
His life force, she stole…

She was there that night…
Under the pale moon light…
When he lost his fight…

And left him in the dark…
She hid the knife deep in the park…
She made not one remark…
As was her trademark…

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