When love bleeds the marrow
From loving bones,
And when love bleeds the sorrow
From miserable tombs,
Beauty seems to never die
Upon your icy form.
When I chose to love,
I saw the ocean from miles apart,
From it, and from yourself.
Loneliness has surmounted itself,
And my mind falls apart,
On this writing.
When love bleeds, and is coated with thorns,
Is coated with the toxin of sin.
When love denies its pain to be as warm as the sun,
And is loved more by death, than by life,
My hands are warmed by blood,
After the knife plunged into my ribs.
When I chose to see
What beauty keeps me seen
By it, by the withering flesh,
By the ghost of a woman
Whose face is torn and broken,
Whose eyes shed more tears than the moon,
There is failure kept warm,
There is love kept cold.