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Suicide's Lullaby.
A wedding in which should have been cozy.
Soft, floral, warm and even lazy.
Turned out differently than expected,
The glorious music was well selected.
Her gown was woven with such decadence,
And now feather satin is caught on the picket fence.
Her hair--which was so pretty that night--
Lost it's shine, wild in the dim light.
She sits knelt in fromt of a grave,
Her mind flashing back to that day.
He was so tremulous, affectionate;
And his affections for her were never met.
His lips had just touched her own,
When he raised the gun to take his turn.
Shot himself, widowing the poor girl,
Crimson painting her dress and curls.
She sat there for so long,
Singing his dead body lullaby songs.
Wiping blood from his face,
Ruining her royal white lace.
She cried until she couldn't cry,
THough now, her tears she couldn't seem to find.
She lies at his grave, body light--
Lightning bringing flashbacks of her life.
As she remembers, she sings the suicide's lullaby.
