Scattered Roses

In the night of the fullmoon,
The beginning of the last night.
She lay on my broken dreams,
On the fresh blood red quilt.
She's tired of grieving already,
So many tiny crystal tears she did shed.
Thinking things through and through in her head,
More and more tears she does cry.
She's tired of living,But scared of dying.
As she pick up the pen-knife that laid beside her,
Letting the blade slide across her wrist.
And the fresh blood run downs her hands,
her spilled blood slowly turned black.
She will die as she agonizes over the fear invading her body,
When blood pours from her heart.
As the blood spill from her heart,
fear will grip her body.
Tears mixes with the blood as she just lies there.
However things were worse than they did seem.
She can no longer hear the last voice,
And her faded feelings are far away.
Her wandering self slowly disappear with the shapeless darkness,
As her vision start to get blurry.
A mysterious voice she heard,
Slowly cast a dark shadow upon her heart.
Then everything is drawn into the darkness,
Revealing a world darker than black,
And brighter than white.
When she thought there is no end to this nightmare,
There was a silence,
The long night is over.
A new day dawns on this night of despair,
But the dawns look as though its covered in blood.
As she lay down on the bed,
Her spirit slowly wander away into the dawn.
Till her last breath,
her heart will still call for your name,
Likewise, the dawn will never be as bright and warm like before...

View daratrazanoff's Full Portfolio