If Love was
born to die,
Did he know
it was for me,
Did he see
the mess I’d make,
Surely then
he’d run and flee
But instead
he humbly came,
He chose
hay over a throne
Even though
it was my mess,
Bore it as
it were his own.
And even
though it’s hard to fathom,
Why my
price he’d chose to pay,
The reason then , to put it simply is,
True Love
was born that day.
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