Oh, so open, is my heart,
To the currents beneath my feet.
I have fallen in love with death,
And released the veil from its eyes.
Death has shown me a profound pleasure,
An old song of ribs used as chimes.
Beautiful, though vainly spoken,
What beauty? What mercy resonates in it?
Have I once loved? Where is the light?
Death surrounds me as the blades surround
The sickened and deathly lamb.
I speak pitiful words from my frozen heart.
She, as the love, grows warm eyes to death,
I was loved, by her, and now I love death.
I had failed what was once meant to be unity.
Useless and torn, spoken and forlorn.
Famed by the lovelorn face, she has more for her.
I found death, and death has spoken.
I once grew tulips from a garden of ivory.
From flesh, there were many bouquets
That grew upwards to Heaven.
She was within that garden, and chose to see,
And take, the beautiful sadness from me.
Each time she whispered, I felt my love break free.
Love! Have I grown tired of it?
Am I still one with life? Death has made itself aware
To my presence, and has made it untimely.
There is frailty leaking around me,
Its coldness is so much the feathers that drop.
And my music has become the unknown.
Suicide is a noose, and its action is the leap,
From a chair to never reach the floor.
When I loved, I loved forever,
Until I realized what ‘forever’ represents,
A failure, and not a failure,
A future and a present, collapsed together.