undonedeed Caxton Just dimming, unliving. The first deed I did. A hand and plate armor. I just try, now, to live. Something to look forward to, And to fall back on, indeed. Why am I torchered, when I'm in deep need. Forgetful, unworthy. These words I've been called. Every word that sinks in, is more skin to be mauled. Black becomes white, and the night becomes day. When I think deeply, theres nothing to say. Mourning in rain, and glaring at the sun. Theres one more deed, I'll leave it undone. 031123 what's it to you? who go blather from