Just six little worlds
and seven sins
"Everything I touch turns to poetry!"
And smoked out summers
like candle wax
I was the moth and you the flame
Four little words;
"Don't you love me?"
But isn't like you've always dreamed?
The epitaph they gave you
wasn't what you deserved
The standard-edition-gold-plated lettering
spelling out an all-too-comforting message
of hope and peace on polished limestone:
"God have mercy; amen"
Seven deadly words;
"I love you. Don't you love me?"
It could have been anyone's grave
but it wasn't;
it was yours
"I'm sorry."
 Blood Saga · Wed Sep 23, 2009 @ 03:16am · 0 Comments |
