In the deepest depths of the cold black,

on his world hes turned his back,

for me, and all I could be,

wasted by the evil men of a school

where our path does wend,

and where now they made me shed

my sanity, due to there vanity,

and he got me out, was my crutch,

and now he longs for her healing touch.

Who heals the healer?

is what they say, the shining light,

the wending way,

and on all my days, I am his thoughts,

and many are the days with danger fraught.

But, his dreams are not of me, and I look into his mind and see,

Kaylee, the angel in the black,

and he fears to hurt her, so he keeps back,

and he loves her, more than life itself,

which is why he puts love upon the shelf.

And he fears for the lives of her and mine,

and he shall await for a proper time,

to love, to feel his life again, and along this road his path does wend.

Who heals the healer?

is what they say, but he keeps upon his wending way,

and who will heal them when they are apart,

so remove the dam, and they will find the lost,

and these poets, they speak of life and love and lust and loss,

but have they ever a broken trust? Have they had there loves both lost?