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.