I see your tears. They grace my sorrows,
Your neutral mask burns more than the smoldering pit of flames in my mind
Hate so deep and defined, they would frighten the god Aros
Exchange of glances, but a mere brush of flesh is to bind.
We were best friends merely yesterday. When did you start to hate me so?
Ivor, me dear, my sweet? I never hated you. And you took advantage of that.