A Pretty Souled Boy

I once saw Roaming, a pretty souled boy 

In a bunch full of cowards with some intent to destroy. 

He had a sweet voice, soft and tender eyes, an anguished heart, crying for someone's demise.

What made you cry? I asked the pretty boy, he showed me his brawn and an empty box of joy.

He seemed a little tired of all the questions made, so I offered him a home and I called it fate. I built a strong roof and made a cosy bed, hoping to make a warm welcome for my perfect mate.

But to my surprise, he refused my kind offer while calling me fake, and left me in that house, with a heart filled with hate. 

I sat on the cosy bed, trying to make some sense, but I couldn't blame him, for the deceased that made him cry was his innocence! 

This realisation made me sad, but I had no one to rely, so I let go of the pretty souled boy and said my goodbye.