Author Information
Decaying Soul
Pin me down
A butterfly in a book
Preserve this ancient art
Outdated and obsolete
Why do you stand there statue?
Too rigid; Too scared
Touch me
Burn into my skin
Melt your soul into a river of lust
So passive; you stare
Your last breath leaves you
In your eyes; you die
Your body walks; your soul decays
Rotted; festering in a pool of love
Love that I gave you
