Here lies my sweet, sweet death, nestled

peacefully upon the downy dawn;
in soft deadly dreams she has,
settled deep and neatly in the rays of the crowning sun -slowly curling into her own cradled
*** so warm.
Now dauntlessly she awakens from her woeful sleep, to prowl and roam, or thoughtlessly
traipse, troop, and patrol the savage doom,
which tonight I shall happily call a home of gloom, (provided that
the heavy hand of thee, my dark angel on the wing, opens soon.)
Because the breeze of mayhem blows
so long,
but I can't control this fine and mournful morn, that looms
hopelessly with modern expressions torn, and pieced together piece by lovely
piece,
as she smiled a smile worth a thousand smiles.
And like no other
was so freely turning up the corners of her ****** mouth -
exposing fangs of tender grace and heat, that shan't go without the
blood I bleed, dripping upon her lovely double-face that I must see -'tis justice for me to this come upon.