The Grave of the Desire of the Dark Architect

Here lies all
That were shattered and torn,
His chance of high pride and passion
Stabbed and suppressed in blood
Into the hole of long forgotten.

All the hopes and dreams,
Ripped and scraped of his flesh
Laid in a grave of its own.
Dead is the dignity of
The least known from the shadows:
A dark architect.

Buried in the forest of black
With no sign of life and beauty,
He who was the unknown pioneer
With desire that never made the reach,
And expressed the anger and jealousy
To all with similar ideals.

And the dark architect
Came before the grave
Of high desires,
And left behind the gift
For its bittersweet honor
His own dreadful life.

As he took the knife
To his own chest
And reunited with the desire,
Who knows if the hurt architect
Will follow the dream of delight,
But what remained behind
Left no precious memory.