Your secret, it is safe with me.
I ask for your soul in exchange for mine; words taken to a page in fine ink and sadness.
Sentences are formed from your suffering, of which I pray you shall no longer feel. You deserve not to bathe in the blood of loneliness, or the tears of which you shed.
You have spent too many minutes in sorrow, melancholy tones painting your mind with hurt, feeling time with no end.
I take your hand in mine and walk with you in eternal understanding.