What rained scarlet With the dying moon? Her razor tongue Dries the porcelain away from the newest life, That falls into oldest death. I am one trip away From leaving this place Forever, away from the decay That leaves a taste upon my own tongue, While her bitterness is still Upon my lips. Love unmentioned me From the list of men Who had wanted endearment Upon the stars, upon the light, Leaving me empty in the darkness. Life is two steps ahead, As I am on that path, With the scars that deepen themselves into my flesh, Like with the love for death That embeds itself into the impression On the right or left side of my bed, As her tear stains, still remain, on both pillow and quilt. I am forced To move, or run While the world takes on Any shape it may form. On my own, I bow to my knees, in regret. Love is the stillness, Life is the movement, Death is another stillness That had captivated her, As life pushes me.