A tango on thin razors as your cold Dead eyes lock on the life you once had.
Death and I, dancing on funeral flowers for fun.
Planting seeds of suicide along with notes hanging from closet doors.
Swiping and sweeping the remains of dust covered bodies that couldn't make it through the night


Death and I, another romance meant for the stars.
Growing trees of hope with the healing powers of ears and open hearts.
Gardens blooming of sour thought and hanging hearts, creating a forest of misery

Death and I, great enemies of the times.
Waging war with no meaning and destroying cities with simple words.
*Out of the ashes of sad faces rise the greatest power with the strength of those who had lost