the man you thought
you wanted is on the ground
and nearly dead

with thoughts of
empty promises still
racing through his head

his time was running
down in numbers to
a timely end

crawling over to the
gutter he'd sing the
name of long lost friends

the echo would rain
reality on the dreamland
he was in

set fire to the statue
of you he erected
in passionate sin

you asked me here
to let me bleed and
writhe upon the floor

I've since forgotten
all those petty things
I loved before

you implore me to
substitute the cold
air in the room

that now lies empty
of memory & it is
now set in with gloom

you need somewhere
to stow away your
sickness and grace

you want to feel like
the muse, flower
petals on your face

a work of art that must
be exposed in some
dangerous place

to juxtapose
all of those whom
love will not embrace

I know too well the
doom and gloom
conspiring with the moon

I feel fate now frowning
and the feeling
start to loom

& I'll never understand
the way you manage
to twist that knife

I'll bleed to death with
a sense of warmth deep
somewhere inside

I'll relieve that breath
of relief from the
torment in my mind

I'll be the awful thing
your soul needs
at this point in time