Grief continuing, clouds decending
Your will to die, fettered by life

Veins swell with pious blood, light shines through cracks in leaves
Sylvan branches rustle softly when the nascent night breathes

A tortuous path carved by rows of lilacs, what excites their pale dead hue
The rose hangs her head in rue

A harrowing night in May, the 23rd day of whispering rain
Cascade ever foreboding thoughts and drown these smiles that express disdain

He trembled as he sighed
His memory effaced by frames of dead and lies
His life viewed from afar
His wrists carried a myriad of fucking scars

Rosemary evergreen and safe hangs 'round hte asylum of my throat
In remembrance of his breath filched by a tousled, hanging rope

Four walls beacame your empty coffin
In a reclusive grave built by the sea
Sixteen tears have caressed my cheek
A lone anemone, you've abandoned me

Door creaks open
Your corpse is found
Death beings
Sorrow abounds