Burning vision of his love, a gift he thinks, from gods above. She takes his gift, his only heart and smiling tears his gift apart. The tattered pieces scattered far creates not wound, but cursed scar. His heart will never love again; the joy belongs to other men. They have not tasted love so pure, that leaves a pain which none can cure.

But truly this comes not from blue, this life was destined, as he knew. To suffer, be his place in life and never call a woman wife. This curse to him be worse than death, than feeling last escaping breath. The object of this man's desire, the one thing that can light his fire, to find his match and give her all, a dream from which he must now fall.

The man is beaten, worn and hung, condemned to live and die unsung. His dreams now dark and twisted are showing him his fall from far. He feels as dreams all slip away, the hoped for daughter gone this day, and as he looks to future pain, he knows he'll never again be sane. Her beauty haunts his sleeping mind, release he seeks but will not find. For as long as he will ever live his heart he never again can give.