|
Note: Written on the spot...tell me what you think please.
If this isn't clear, I'll tell you now...it's from the point of view of a man.. yeah....Well, enjoy...hopefully!
Closed inside the darkened crypt,
You whispered something dark, unheared,
And as the humid ice-air nipped,
You mutter, softly, “not a word.”
We crouch down low, and try to hide,
As the darkness crawled all about,
Feel black butterflies down inside,
The candle softly flickers out.
And for a moment, we feel safe,
You hold me close and kiss me soft,
But the needle-flies are beginning to chafe,
And my insides curled as you quietly coughed.
The sickness oozes, visably,
Out from your mouth the scarlet pours,
Your eyes cloud and you no longer see,
And you feel cold as you never have before.
I will you to stay, a minute more,
But you’re so twisted, turning ugly,
Though I love you more than ever before,
You’re changing, quicker, changing doubly.
As your beautiful face, once calm and clear,
Turns ghost-white as the blood drains,
And I try not to shake violently with fear,
And try to ignore the dark, red stains.
And as I slowly back away,
I hold the stake above my head,
And will to live another day,
As I lay your corpse down in my bed.
And for a final moment I stare,
And I have never seen quite so much red,
This is a sight I cannot start to bear,
So put this cold bullet through my head.
One, two, three, four,
Someone’s knocking at the door,
Five, six, seven, eight,
Someone’s firing at our gate.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,
Into darkened dreams you delve,
Thirteen, fourteen,
No more sorrow,
Fifteen, sixteen,
No tomorrow.
 Morgana The Heartless · Sat Sep 08, 2007 @ 04:25am · 3 Comments |
