The Mark
Derek Thompson

The friend I’d gladly die for.

The friend I’d betray before

The girl my heart ached for

Could walk into his door

And accept his love, knowing

I could never offer more.

The spear pierces the skin.

I etch the mark of my sin.

The price of giving in

to the jealous angel within.

Even with debts repaid

I’m never coming home again.