• A crows call pirces the night air of the cold graveyard
    A girl sits on a grave,a puddle of blood forming on the groud
    Death surounds her
    So full of peace yet sarrow
    No end to her sadness
    No end to her missory
    No end to her heart break
    Only one way out
    but dare she take it
    once down that road
    there no turing back
    her loved one under her
    cold and lifeless
    tears trickle down her cheeks
    hands trembling
    she lays ontop of where her loved one lays beneath the dirt
    she takes out her kive
    and looks at the bleeding cuts on her arm
    she wispers to herself "we must be togther dead or alive"
    the girl jabs the kive threw her heart
    she lays there dead still
    her skin turing pale and cold
    her life draning away
    blood puddle forms in wich she lays
    death surounds her all around
    soon she will be with her loved one underground
    she finds her loved one in where death come to stay
    greeted by a loveing kiss
    and a hug that lasts forever
    the to lovers will never leave aunther
    not now
    not ever