the lost battle

Tears pour down her face, blood runs down her arm.
Tonight a soul is lost in the battlefield of love.
A heart was bashed to pieces.
The only desire was to be loved in return.
A mirror is smashed because of the truth it showed,
her without him.
Blood runs down like ink flowing off a flit-tip pen.
The only thought left, before death whisked her away,
was no one will love him like she did.
But little is known.
That he is lying face down in death because he thought she'd never love him.
Tonight the battlefield of love engulfed two lives only to be lost