deepundergroundpoetry.com
Die For Me
I love the smell of roses on the brink of death
Or the subtle change in the fragrance of your last breath
The end is so divine, entwined
With the mournful tunes of your last caress
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
I love the way you look for God to confess sins
And the way that your beneficial relatives grin
The greed is so divine, entwined
With that one last touch of your cold dead skin
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Must I ask you please?
Tombstones make me feel at home
With one last mourning song
Witness the last caress
It’s the only thing that’s left
Bathing in your weeping springs
In fields gray, once so green
Creeping and the reaping
Hold hands one last time and sing
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
How must we go out, pill induced or in a blaze?
This will truly be, hopefully, the last of our days
The end is so divine, entwined
As they place us in our cold Autumn graves
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Must I ask you please?
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
To swing in the breeze
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Falling with the leaves
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Won’t...
You...
Die for me?
Or the subtle change in the fragrance of your last breath
The end is so divine, entwined
With the mournful tunes of your last caress
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
I love the way you look for God to confess sins
And the way that your beneficial relatives grin
The greed is so divine, entwined
With that one last touch of your cold dead skin
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Must I ask you please?
Tombstones make me feel at home
With one last mourning song
Witness the last caress
It’s the only thing that’s left
Bathing in your weeping springs
In fields gray, once so green
Creeping and the reaping
Hold hands one last time and sing
Won’t... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
How must we go out, pill induced or in a blaze?
This will truly be, hopefully, the last of our days
The end is so divine, entwined
As they place us in our cold Autumn graves
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Must I ask you please?
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
To swing in the breeze
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Falling with the leaves
Wont... You...
Die for me?
Won’t... You...
Die with me?
Won’t...
You...
Die for me?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 1
comments 4
reads 862
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.