Cradled by there eyes
as they convulsed me
in to oblivion,
with every downfall I was
Pools of crimson collected in
my fractured sockets and
They mourned my silence,
inscribing one last syllable
upon my stomach...
As blood flourished forward from
my dead lips.
Droplets were like rain descending,
as I painted the surrounding
They were covered also,
for they were close to the cradle
when it fell silent.
I kissed each one with claret,
my mark was upon there façade.
Wild flowers drank upon me,
seeding them with my last breath.
Where beauty once flourished,
Now blushed roses grow.
I'm a garden of remembrance
to what was,
what never shall be.
But my death has sweet aromas to it,
for all one at a time came to see
What had befallen me.
Guilt, remorse or curiosity..
To hide a truth, others may fall upon.
But where they expected death,
a sight of maroon beauty.
"Curiosity is a live wire in water,
with a please read note floating
"*You know there going to read it,
And with that, they picked a rose pricking
there finger upon my vengeance.
I could ******* aura that I kissed upon
there last actions
so long ago.
There was no scream, just like you can't hear
a tree fall in a silent forest.
I now feed upon them, for there all here, in
my garden of eternity rotting slowly..
But there still alive under the surface..
my thorns negating there vocals.
I'm there cradle and I'm rocking it,
oh so slowly...