Well this poem took place duing the same time as the poem love's death. It was my death letter at the time.
A palace of love and hate.
Next to the mighty house of faith.
With a kingdom of disgust and taste.
Lies with in this Reaper of life's fair face.
Yet i am still with out a lace
To tie my sadest trace.
OF sadness and grace
I can not cope with my brace.
Made of love's disdain.
For it is too much to maintain.
In ths my last day.
Of violence and hate.