The white wings spread from her back,
I ready my blade, to defend and attack,
I do not tell her the heaviness in my heart,
That in some way we differ like light to dark.

Alone in my mind, from dawn to dusk,
Only she can turn those memories to dust,
As I wake from my haunted dreaming,
Seeing her, begging, pleading.

Angel aglow with pure light,
Defended by her Dark Knight,
I dare not tell her of my haunting past,
Or her warmth may turn to glass.

Across the bridge, seemingly endless,
I walk alone, feeling friendless,
Only her haunting cold to keep me sane,
Not as ice, but as rain.

Matting my hair, pouring down in rivers,
This warm blood I drew, it gives me the shivers,
This blood is not mine, what have I become?
Only she can see past what I have done.

Her soft arms, wrapped around me,
Wasn’t I supposed to protect her, how can this be?
She fingers my hair, her smile warm,
The sun rising to a brand-new dawn.

Her heart so pure, my hands so stained,
These wounds won’t heal, I am maimed,
By the guilt resonating in my heart,
Tearing, ripping, breaking me apart.

She holds my hand, whispers in the night,
“I’ll be here, it’ll be alright”
“That promise you made to me,
It’s my turn, can’t you see?”

The shadows the rush to douse the light,
My turn to spread my wings to fight.
I ready my blade, her at my side,
She defends my lions pride.

She once wondered if I kept a score,
Of all the work that I so deplore,
Discipline is not the answer,
Spreading like an infectious cancer.

Still I’ll fight, to keep her alive,
And she will fight, for our pride
Our friends are our family,
We’ll defend them, Rinoa and me.