Drawn to death like a sick moth to the flame,
The topic's toxic, turn and tossing,
Teeter totter for days,
It seems to follow me, a hollowing,
a carving of hearts,
Darkness trailing, gloom impaling me,
I'm falling apart.
There's art in death, not that it's pretty but well orchestrated
Amidst a somber tune, a hopeful light,
But in the core there's hatred.
An elegy of emptiness..
A ghastly, dark symphony.
And when I die, please don't cry..
Just sing for me.
I let the ink spill like i sliced an artery. Then i drink til, my mind's an anomaly.
I think ill, solitude's so hard on me.
On the, brink still, it's a lil disheartening.
But I keep writing anyways.
Believe me, there are many days,
Thinking of a way that I could find to cope with.
The fact I lost someone that I thought I would grow old with.
Sometimes life just isn't fair
And in it, there's no favorites,
Cherish every moment,
Smell the roses, you should savor it.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
Drawn to death like a sick moth to the flame,
The topic's toxic, turn and tossing,
Teeter totter for days,
It seems to follow me, a hollowing,
a carving of hearts,
Darkness trailing, gloom impaling me,
I'm falling apart.
There's art in death, not that it's pretty but well orchestrated
Amidst a somber tune, a hopeful light,
But in the core there's hatred.
An elegy of emptiness..
A ghastly, dark symphony.
And when I die, please don't cry..
Just sing for me.
I let the ink spill like i sliced an artery. Then i drink til, my mind's an anomaly.
I think ill, solitude's so hard on me.
On the, brink still, it's a lil disheartening.
But I keep writing anyways.
Believe me, there are many days,
Thinking of a way that I could find to cope with.
The fact I lost someone that I thought I would grow old with.
Sometimes life just isn't fair
And in it, there's no favorites,
Cherish every moment,
Smell the roses, you should savor it.
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